I walk into the room slowly, loosening my collar as I take in the surroundings. You are waiting for me. Seated in a tall wooden chair, you pierce me with a long penetrating stare. Your glowing green eyes emanate a strength and fortitude that simultaneously chills and comforts me. In front of you, on a low dark coffee table, you have numerous implements. Thick, supple straps. Thin, harsh canes. Paddles and whips. Handcuffs and a strap-on. And in the center, a simple white piece of paper.
"Do you know why you're here, Daniel?"
It's the first time that I've heard your voice, and your accent washes over me, enthralling my heart.
"I want to be broken by you. Completely and utterly broken and humbled. Truly submissive." I try to sound confident, but my knees are weak, as I dare to imagine how much pain I will have to endure to prove my submission to you.
"And why, why do you want this, young man?"
A question with a thousand answers, each building upon the last. The first answer is simple. On that white piece of paper, you have a list of my recent transgressions and failings. Procrastinating with my work. Being careless. Masturbating without your permission. The list goes on and on. And yet, deep down, I know that I am not here because of that list. Had I behaved perfectly for the last week, month, or year, I would have nonetheless been drawn to this room by an irresistible force.
"I want this because I have misbehaved and crave a punishment that will take away my guilt and improve my behavior. But more than anything, I want to be broken because I want you. And I know that the only way to have you is by giving myself up to you completely, wholly, without regrets. Body, soul, mind, and emotions. I want this because my soul is crying out for you to break me down, then build me up anew as yours."
I am rewarded with a loving smile. our eyes lock, and there is a mutual understanding. Any hesitations on either of our parts are instantly removed, and like a ball set into motion, an irreversible process begins.
The single word awakens me from my reverie. Not harsh, not cruel, but neither soft nor a question. With a single, simple word, you establish your authority and begin to exert your will over me. I quickly remove my shirt and shoes, then take off my pants and fold it all neatly on the coffee table. The hint of a glare in your face is enough for me to know that you mean everything. I look away momentarily as I remove my boxers. Despite the fact that I will soon have a blistered, marked bottom, and cry tears of contrition and submission, I cannot help but be aroused in this moment. Aroused by your physical beauty, yes. You are wearing a tight black dress that accentuates your long white legs and hugs your bosom snugly. All I see are smooth dark lines, highlighting your powerful, sexy body. But my arousal is all the more stronger because of what lies inside you, the mental strength, determination, and willpower.
You stroke me a few times, once again bringing me back to reality. The pleasure is indescribable. But it disappears just as quickly as you dig your fingernails into the flesh of my cock and jerk downwards. Instantly, I am sprawled over your lap.
You waste no words. You waste no time. Before I have a chance to catch my breath, you are peppering my unprotected bottom with fast, staccato slaps. I feel the warmth begin to build on one side, then the other, as you focus on each cheek for a minute at a time. A few minutes later, I begin to squirm, more in discomfort than in pain. You pause for a moment, and I turn my head to look up at your face. You smile delightfully.
"We're just getting started, honey. You better be prepared for an awful lot more pain before you've proven anything to me."
I smile back weakly. "I asked for this, and I will accept every form of punishment you have to offer, obediently and humbly. My heart will be filled with nothing other than gratitude and thankfulness."
Motivated by my submissiveness, and perhaps wanting to bring me to a less composed state, you pick up a small leather paddle and begin to spank me anew. The sting is completely different, burning deeper into my flesh, as the leather conforms itself to my ass. The slap of your hand is replaced by a duller thumping of the leather, and you are both thorough and relentless.
"How does it feel to be turned over the lap of a woman, like a little child, getting your bottom blistered?"
I am taking short breaths now, trying not to flinch, but often unsuccessfully. You quickly spank my thighs with your full force. "I expect an answer when I ask you a question."
"I.. I'm sorry..." I stumble for the correct response, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the pain in my nether regions. "It feels embarrassing... and yet... I wouldn't want it any other way." I can tell that my face is starting to sweat, a tell-tale sign that the pain is beginning to affect me.
You stop spanking me for a moment, and suddenly grab my hair in your hand and pull my face close to yours. "By the time we are finished, Daniel, you will be mine. All of you." You hiss the words softly, but they strike me with the force of a wailing siren. "Get up," you order. Awkwardly, I scramble to my feet and stand by your side, hands folded behind my back. My penis is flaccid now, and I can feel the hint of tears in my eyes. "Spread your legs." I comply, then flinch as you begin to paddle the insides of my thighs, then swat my scrotum and penis. I can't help but rise onto my tiptoes, shifting my weight back and forth as I try to escape the pain. "Stop moving," you whisper into my ear, as you gently fondle me with your other hand. I groan in pleasure, but once again, it is momentary. You begin to spank me again, standing beside me, while rubbing my penis with your free hand. Within moments, I am erect again, the pain and pleasure sending me to a blissful state. "It's a shame, you know. Such a nice cock... but you'll be the one getting fucked, not me." You look purposefully at the dildo as the words drip off of your tongue. I swallow audibly, especially given my relative lack of experience being penetrated.
"Enough pleasure for now, I think," you say sternly, as you push me towards the couch. "Bend over the arm of the couch, legs spread, and stick that red little bottom out for me. You will not make a noise, you will not flinch, you will not fucking move a centimeter for the next few minutes. Do I make myself clear?" I nod in assent as I bend over the couch, steeling myself for the pain to come. You pick up a long, thin cane, and whip it through the air playfully. I can feel goosebumps racing up and down my body as the swishing sound of the cane echoes within the room. All too soon, you are tapping the cane on my already beaten ass, ready to line up stroke after stroke. The first slashing stroke catches me by surprise. The pain is incomparable to the spanking. I feel the sting spread throughout my whole body, head to toe. I clench my teeth, knowing that disobedience will be disastrous. I am able to endure half a dozen strokes before my knees finally bend. Unrelenting, you plant three quick lines of red against my upper thighs. I cry out. "I will NOT tolerate this kind of behavior, Daniel. Your caning is about to become a bit more severe." With those words, you leave the room. I am curious, but remain in position, determined to prove my submission, despite my shortcomings.
Suddenly, I feel something cold on my asshole, pushing its way in forcefully. It is accompanied by a burning sensation that is unlike anything I have ever felt. After a few seconds, it dawns on me that you must have inserted a ginger plug into my anus. I have always fantasized about 'figging', but never experienced it until now. "Clenching and flinching will be a mistake now," you say with laughter and amusement in your voice. You have picked up a thicker, larger cane, and now resume your work with vigor. I cannot help but clench my ass after each stroke, but this sends a pulse of pain through my innards, as the ginger attacks me from the inside.
I am starting to sob now, at first softly, then uncontrollably. I can no longer hold it in. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please..." I confess and beg. "I'll do anything for you, I'll eat you out, I'll take a fucking, I'll obey you completely, just please... not the cane..." Tears run down my cheeks.
"You make it sound like it's your choice, my dear," you say with a giggle. "And if that's the case, then you clearly haven't learned how to submit to me. You will do all of the things you mentioned and more. But not because you want to, or because you offered to do so. You will do them because you have no choice in the matter, and you will do them according to my wishes and my needs." The caning does not stop. In fact, you increase the severity, and I am unable to keep myself from flinching, clenching, and moving out of position.
"This will not do," you cluck, looking down at me with scolding disapproval. "Get on top of the coffee table, kneeling on all fours." Sobbing, I can do nothing more than nod submissively. You place several pillows underneath my chest, so my ass is forced high up into the air. Arms and legs are quickly bound to the four corners of the coffee table. Exposed, vulnerable, unable to move.
Trembling, I nervously lick my lips. I taste the salt of my sweat and tears, feel the warmth emanating off my entire body. I don't know how much more I can take, but in this position, I have no choice. Will this end in agony and misery, or the true feeling of submission and the subsequent sense of liberation? If my past experiences have taught me anything, then there will be no final redemption until I am pushed far beyond my limits.
Our eyes lock again, and I realize that you need to push me just as badly as I need to be pushed. We both need this, need each other to satisfy our cravings. But more than that, more than simply desires and fantasies, this is about becoming who we truly are. Self-realization and self-actualization. I see the lust in your eyes, reflected in my own. We continue to remain locked in each others' gazes, as you remove your dress. Black lace underwear accentuates your soft white skin. A princess, a mistress, a lover, an authority, a comforter... You are all of these things and none of these things, a sum that is so much greater than the parts.
You stand directly in front of me, your panty-clad pussy mere inches from my face. I can feel the warmth and wetness, smell the sweet juices longing to emerge from your womanhood. Instinctively, I stick out my tongue, stretching the ropes around my arms and legs in an effort to taste your panties. You are obliging and step closer, rubbing yourself against my face as I am taken to a place of sheer ecstasy. I look up at your face, like an obedient puppy, hoping that I can properly pleasure you. The beads of sweat running down your bosom and the opened mouth, emitting small groans of pleasure, assure me.
"More of this later, if you can submit to me properly," you whisper. You reach for the dreaded strap-on and fasten it around your waist. "You like cock, don't you?" There is a fear and terror in my eyes, but you simply tease away. I shake my head vigorously, but as I open my mouth to speak, you expertly insert the dildo into my mouth. "If you want to have any chance of seeing and touching more of me, you better start sucking." I obey, as best as I can, but quickly choke, my inexperience coming through. You couldn't care less, and you grab the back of my head, fucking my face with pleasure. Tear of humiliation, pain, and acquiescence run down my cheeks as I stop trying to fight the dildo and take it all in for you. "Now that's a good boy," you coo as you run your hands gently through my hair. "Let's see how you take it on the other end."