I take a deep calming breath as I pause on your doorstep, running my hands down my skirt before lifting my right hand and rapping my knuckles against your door. I bite my lip, butterflies taking flight in my stomach as nerves and anticipation mount within me. This is it, it’s really happening. Our first session together.

The door swings open and you fill the doorway, a smile spreading across your lips.

My eyes devour you, taking in every minute detail, from the way you styled your hair, to the press of your slacks and the dark coarse hair peppered over the toes of your bare feet.

“Sir?”

Your smile spreads to a smirk. “I said, please come in.”

Shaking myself, I smile softly to cover the flush of embarrassment filling me at having spaced out, ogling you. I walk past you, the delicious smell of your cologne assaulting my senses and I fight back the moan rising up my throat. My stomach clenches, and my clit begins to throb as desire fills me. I want nothing more than to reach out and rub myself all over you, to soak in your smell, your warmth.

I MUST behave.

Pausing a couple feet behind you, you shut the door and face me. “It’s good to see you, Sir.” My voice betrays nothing of my body’s reaction to you.

“Yes, it is. You look beautiful, kitten.”

Closing the space between us, you step into me, wrapping your strong arms around me for what feels like only the barest of moments before you release me. Then without another word, you move further into the house, my eyes following you. I want to pull you back into me, feel you, but inwardly sigh at the lost moment and fall into step. I lose sight of you as you turn into a room and hasten my step a little to bridge the gap. My eyes find you as I make it past the arched opening to find you already seated on a sectional. Curiosity fills me and my gaze scans the room, taking note of the decor, furnishings, and colour scheme. I memorize my observations of your preferences and focus back on you.

“Come.”

The playful smile on your lips eases all the tension I hadn’t known was there and I relax, returning your smile as I approach you. Pulling me into your lap, I wrap an arm around your shoulders, my fingers itching to bury themselves into your hair.

Easy, Jess… behave, I repeat to myself.

You crook a finger beneath my chin, pulling my face towards you before shifting your fingers to gently rub the pad of your thumb against my lower lip. I close my eyes, lips parting ever so slightly at the touch. The tip of my tongue snakes out and licks the digit before I can stop myself. If it had been up to me, we’d still be in the entrance, my body pressed firmly into the wall and your cock would be buried deep inside me.

Alas, I am not. So here we are, sitting on a couch as my need to touch you, and taste you grows ever more urgent.

So much has led up to this moment. The long conversations, teasing exchanges, and the wild imaginings of what could be. But the time we’d given to building trust between us had passed, and impatience had reared its head.

Letting your hand drop, you push me gently off your lap. “Strip for me.”

I blink, stunned at the suddenness. One moment I was in your arms and the next I’m stood between your legs and given direction. It takes but a mere second for my mind to shift and recover though. “Yes, Sir.”

Stepping back a little, I shake off any doubt and tamp down my growing excitement.

Our gazes meet. I lick my lips, spurred on by the burning intensity in your eyes. My fingers rise to the edge of my pencil skirt, curling into the soft fabric of my blouse and I pull it up and out. My hips sensually sway back and forth as I shift my shoulders, dancing slowly despite the only sound being that of our breathing and the rustling of clothes. My nibble fingers make quick work of the buttons holding the light fabric together. Not once faltering in my movements I pull the edges apart and down over my shoulders, revealing the lacy bra beneath. I give no thought to where I discard the piece of clothing, as though I am transfixed by the fire I see reflected in your eyes. Abdomen clenching, I feel the pulse travel down to my clit. God I want you inside me right now.

But if I must be patient, then a little tease is just what Sir is going to get.

I flip my hair back over my shoulders and reach back behind me to unhook the clasp on my bra. Dropping my arms I let the silky straps glide down my arms, letting gravity playfully expose my breasts. Gently kicking the discarded bra aside, I press my palms against my thighs, drawing them up and over my swaying body to cup my breasts, each index and thumb circling my taut nipples. I bite my lip and moan as I pinch the sensitive nubs. Wetness pools between my thighs and I know I can’t linger any longer. Pushing the firm, pale globes together, I knead them as I throw my head back, exposing the long column of my throat.

“Skirt.” The terse command draws my eyes back to yours and a thrill of excitement at your reaction sends another pulse of fire straight to my humming clit.

I turn around, reaching back to unzip the garment. Hooking my thumbs in its waistband below my ribs, I push it down as I lean forward, shimmying my ass for good measure. Your small gasp of surprise has me fighting back a smile of triumph as the skirt slips down my silky legs to pool around my ankles. Stepping out of it, I can only imagine what sight fills you. Stockings, garter and most importantly of all, no panties. My bare pussy glistening from my own desire.

I straighten, undulating my hips excruciatingly slow unclasp the garter belt and unhook it from my stockings. I toss it aside onto the growing pile of clothing and step out of my heels.

“Come here, kitten.” You point to a spot between your spread feet and I pause my dancing to give you a dazzling smile. Gracefully falling to my knees, I crawl the few feet that separate us and rise to rest my hands over your thighs.

Hand snaking into my long hair, you give it a sharp tug before slamming your mouth down over mine. The kiss is hard, almost brutal in its intensity as it flattens my inner lips across my teeth. It slowly becomes coaxing, a soft open stroke of lips.

Deepening the kiss, your tongue glides against mine and I moan in pleasure as my first taste of you explodes across my taste buds. Without conscious thought, my fingers bury themselves into your soft hair, as our mouths continue duelling to devour each other.

Pulling away just enough to break the kiss, our hungry, harsh breaths mingle as your forehead comes to rest against mine.

“Good girl.”

I hear the praise of satisfaction in your tone and a thrill of joy fills me. However, it does nothing to douse the fire raging in me. I want, no I NEED more.

You jerk back, rising, lifting me into your arms and we head out of the living space.

Your gait is sure as you quickly walk us down another corridor into what I’m assuming will either be a playroom or bedroom. Without pause, you swerve into a large, sparsely furnished room and head right for the large four-poster bed centred on its back wall. A tiny squeal escapes me as you throw me onto its plush surface, immediately climbing atop me. The fabric covering all that hot skin seems to chafe across my delicate skin.

Grabbing my wrists you pin them over us, leaning down to suck on my lower lip, “ You remember your safeword, Kitten?”

“Pineapple, Sir,” I reply without thought, eyes narrowed in challenge at what I want.

You. Naked. Yesterday.

As though reading my mind, you rise up and settle your thighs over my abdomen, bodily pinning me as you give me a devilish grin. I watch in rapt attention, eyes feasting on the teasing glimpses of skin as you unfasten the first button of your shirt and then a second. Pausing at the third, my eyes flick up to yours as I open my mouth to urge you on. The dark, heated look on your face silences my words and causes my pussy to clench. Hard.

Fuck… Shifting over me, you lift me higher on the mattress and raise my arms above my head. The position causes my back to arch, jutting out my breasts. I have a brief moment of hope you’ll put me out of my misery and touch me, but instead it’s dashed as you reach over further back and pull a long piece of rope down to where you firmly grip my wrists. Despite wanting to move, to touch you… hell to touch myself, I watch on in needy silence as you deftly bind me to the bed.

Once you’ve finished I pull on the rope, testing the resistance, confirming my suspicion. There’s no give at all. Suppose that was a good thing as my patience was gone.

“Finally got you where I’ve wanted you.” Your words nearly have me cumming on the spot. I’ve wanted this for what seems like forever too. I suck at my lip as you run your hands down my arms, across my chest, then over my breasts. The soft abrasion of your palms against my nipples draws a husky groan from deep in my throat. I curl my spine, pressing my flesh into your hands to relieve the ache for more friction. “Please, Sir…” I don’t know if I could handle the torture of being teased at the moment… There was too much pent-up anticipation and need.

“I know what my Kitten needs.”

Hopping off the bed, you jerk your shirt out of your pants and lift it over your head. I commit to memory the way your muscles move beneath your skin as you shed the rest of your clothing. At some point I had begun to rock my hips gently, tightly pressing my thighs together to create some friction on my clit. The sight of your engorged cock makes my pussy clench in need. Saliva pools in my mouth in anticipation of tasting all of you.

You step up to the edge at the bottom of the bed and grab hold of my ankles, giving my legs a soft, but warning tug. “None of that, Kitten.”

I bite back a groan of frustration and I’m rewarded as you spread my legs and settle between my thighs.

“Such a good girl.” You crook a brow at me, ‘and what do good girls get, Kitten?”

“Rewarded, Sir?” I sound hopeful, even to my own dazed ears. But it was rhetorical.

You don’t wait for my answer as you push my knees to my chest and lean your mouth forward to latch onto my clit. I gasp, nearly coming undone right that moment as you suck it. Another deep suck follows the first, causing my eyes to roll back in their sockets and a shudder to run through my entire body. Your tongue flickers out, licking at my folds, ripping a purr-like groan from me. My toes curl, my hands jerk in their binding as I try to reach down and touch you. You lave my little pink pussy, alternating between licking and sucking. Releasing my right ankle, your hand joins your mouth, a fingertip circling just the very edge inside the entrance of my pussy. I forcefully clench my pelvic floor, desperately trying to suck it in. Mindlessly pumping my hips as much as the position you have me in allows.

“P-please… Sir…” I beg.

I hiss more in surprise than actual pain as you slap the inside of my thigh. My breath stutters and I squeeze my eyes shut as your lips continue their delicious assault. I can feel an orgasm building. This time your fingertip doesn’t tease. You thrust it in as deep as you can several times in quick succession before partially withdrawing and curling it. Pressing firmly against my g-spot, you suck at my clit and I go rigid. I release a loud moan as my body begins to shudder, the orgasm ripping through my core and fanning out over me.

It takes me a moment or two before I open my eyes and for my breathing to begin to ease. The small, satisfied smile spread on my lips turns into a frown as I don’t see you. I lift my head, eyes scanning the silent room. I’m alone. I let my head fall back to the bed and close my eyes, softly exhaling. Of all the things I had imagined could happen, that had not been much of a contender. Of course, I had no idea what else you may have in mind, but I was grateful not only for the pleasure you’d bestowed on my body but for having regained the ability to think.

This time I hear your footsteps as you enter the bedroom and smile over to you as I watch you carry in a small tray-like platter covered in a thin black cloth. Curiosity fills me, but it’s the sight of you in all your naked splendour that captivates my attention. Your gorgeous cock is still hard, its bulbous head reddened from blood flow. My tongue draws in my lower lip, my body humming again at your nearness. If I weren’t bound to the bed I’d already be crawling to you, running my hands over your body as my mouth and tongue worship your cock.

The bed barely dips as you climb over to me.

“Thank you, Sir.”

I know it’s a little belated, but nonetheless I thank you for the pleasure you’ve given me, and the release you’ve permitted me to have. You remain silent, though a smile tugs at your lips and you dip your head in acknowledgement. Leaning forward, you place the tray on the top edge of the bed to our left, then stretch out against me. Shifting your torso over me, you raise a hand to brush a long strand of hair covering my forehead. With a feather-soft touch, you trace the contours of my face. Slipping your hand below my jaw, you curl your fingers around my neck. You don’t squeeze, just let them rest there as your lips descend to follow the same path your fingers had moments ago. My breathing deepens and my lips part, your hot breath fanning over my skin causing a small, exquisite shiver to run down my spine and harden my nipples. I bask in the tender touch.

Your lips press hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw to my own. This kiss is different from the one earlier. This kiss is all about seduction. My lips move under yours, mimicking your pace. Your right hand unfurls from my neck to glide downward to my breasts. You knead first one and then the other, making me moan softly. I run the tip of my tongue against your bottom lip and you take the hint, deepening the kiss. Slipping your tongue between my lips, your tongue playfully circles mine. As it retreats, I close my lips, giving it a gentle suck. Your groan rumbles into my mouth causing my pussy to clench. The sound… I want to hear it over and over again. You pinch my left nipple, playfully tweaking it with a well-manicured fingertip. Rolling it between your index and thumb, my moans grow louder.

“May I please taste you, Sir?”

“Soon, kitten, but first…” Rising slightly, you cup my head and lift it, gently placing a blindfold over my eyes. Vision lost, I bite the inside of my cheek as I strain to hear what you’re doing. I hear a soft metallic noise, my mind racing at all the possibilities of what it could be. I feel you shift next to me, a knee placed by my waist. Wrapping your hands around my hips you flip me over, making me yelp in surprise. Running a hand up over my spine, your fingers drive into my hair, lifting them from my nape.

You press a wet kiss into the flesh of my collarbone before scrapping your teeth along the skin, biting down. I groan, lifting my head back and out of the way as much as my outstretched arms would allow. As though that was what you wanted, you slip what feels like a padded collar around my neck. The metal sound comes again as you close the buckled clasp followed by a sharp click.

My heart thunders in my chest, excitement and nervousness warring for supremacy.

“Spread your legs, kitten.”

I immediately comply, excitement winning out.

Then nothing… I can’t hear anything other than our breathing for a time. I hope you’re getting an eyeful, but as more and more seconds tick by, nervousness creeps in. Was something wrong? Had I done something? Did you slip out of the room again? A clinking sound to my left has me jerking my head to the side. So you’re still here. I inwardly sigh in relief.

I shout in shock as something cold and wet is pressed into my inner thigh. Ice. That was new. Dragging it up you pause at the seam of my ass cheeks letting the melting water drip across my spread pussy. I moan softly, loving the contrast of the cool liquid over my heated flesh.

You lift the ice as you reposition yourself over my bound hands. Using the leash attached to the collar, you pull my neck up, aligning your cockhead to my eager mouth. I feel its head brush against my lips and open to twirl my tongue around the tip. I run the flat of my tongue over the bulging vein on its underside, licking and kissing my way down to your balls. The ice returns, but this time you place it at the base of my spine, slowly inching it upwards. I shiver in response, my tongue circling your balls before gently drawing one into my mouth, gently sucking.

Lifting my hands to just below the curve of your ass, I softly dig my fingers into your skin, pulling you forward. Wrapping my lips over your cock, I tease a moment longer, licking at its slit with the tip of my tongue. I hum in pleasure as the first taste of your precum coats my tongue, closing my eyes to focus on what I feel, taste and hear.

Sucking you deep, I move back up when you reach my throat, increasing the suction on every ascent. I quickly set a steady rhythm, bobbing my head up and down the length of you, from base to tip, my fingers gently rolling your balls. The sound of your pleasure has my clit throbbing almost painfully, my pussy clenching with need.

The ice keeps moving over my fevered skin, occasionally making me shiver. Not an inch of my skin is spared, my back, hips, thighs and calves having been teased. I feel on fire. Changing the pace, I suck you down to the back of my throat, holding you there for a few seconds as my eyes water and I fight my gag reflex. Your hoarse moan spurs me on and I do so again, always pressing the flat of my tongue against you. On my third descent, you move the remains of the cube directly into the opening entrance of my pussy, my responding squeal muffled as I nearly choke.

Raising my head I cough and gasp for air, the burning discomfort of the ice having diminished as the heat of my pussy thaws the ice, its liquid filling my channel in soothing coolness.

Placing your hand between my shoulders, you pivot, climbing over me. No sooner did the ice melt, you fist your cock, positioning it against my pussy. In one sharp thrust, you bury yourself as deep as you can go, the head butting my cervix. My pussy clenches painfully at the sudden invasion and I hear you growl in pleasure.

Moving your left hand to the small of my back, you press me down into the mattress, setting a punishing cadence of slow withdrawals and hard, deep thrusts. My moans are more akin to little screams as my pelvic floor fights to take you deeper, rhythmically clamping down on every thrust. Your body leaning over mine, your heat seeping into my cooled skin, I arch my hips, pumping back into you, meeting you thrust for thrust. The staccato of our slapping flesh rends the air, mixing with our harsh breaths and the echoes of our pleasure. My head tilted back as far as it can go, and you grip my jaw kissing and sucking my lips.

In a harsh whisper against my ear, you ask, “Who does this pussy belong to?”

Licking my lips, I reply in a husky tone, “You, Sir. Only you.”

You growl, somehow thrusting even harder. “That’s right, Kitten. You’re mine.”

“Fuck…fuck…fuck…” I mindlessly chant, every thrust inching me towards the precipice of another orgasm.

Slipping a hand beneath me you demand, “Come for me, kitten.” You circle the little nub before pinching my clit and its sting sends me off the deep end. I scream as my body draws tight, the orgasm ripping through my core and spreading like wildfire.

Never easing your thrusts, you slam into me twice more before going still. Roaring as your own orgasm hits, rope after rope of your cum soaks my drenched pussy.

We remain still for a few moments as our breathing evens, and then you untie my wrists and remove the collar. Shifting us to face one another, you curl one of my legs over your hip before softly running your fingers through my hair. We lay there a while staring at one another in silence, my hands finally freely moving over you, learning you. I can’t help but think you’re trying to give me time to process what has transpired. We both knew today wouldn’t be a very long session, it being the first, it was decided it would be best to ease into it.

Breaking the silence, I wink at you, giving you a crooked grin. “So…I loved that, Sir.”

Returning my smile with one of your own, “I’m glad to hear it, kitten.”

I lean forward and place a light kiss on the tip of your nose before tickling your ribs.

Grabbing my wrists, you climb atop me, placing them against my temples. With a mock stern scowl, you warn me, “Kitten needs to behave or I’ll need to teach her a lesson in how to properly treat her Dominant.”

My eyes cut to the side, rearranging my features into a playful pout. “Party pooper.”

My knees ached. Carrying my shoulders back without eventually slouching was a feat and we were going on for two hours. I held my head high, chin tipped slightly to my right, keeping you in my periphery as you were sitting comfortably in a club chair partially behind me.

My discomfort grew as you talked, joking with your fellow Dominants. Not that anyone would notice unless they were close enough to notice the strain around my eyes. I was tired. Tired of waiting, tired of boredom, tired of the discomfort. Not that I would say a word, though. No.

I must’ve been lost in my thoughts as it took a tug on my leash to pull me from my musings.

“Kitten, Sir Damien has arrived and wants a whiskey.”

I flush under your tone, noting the slight twinge of displeasure at having to repeat yourself. Standing, I unfurl my legs, trying to look as graceful as I can while masking an imperceptible wince. On stiff legs I head to the bar without thought, upturning a crystal glass and adding a piece of ice. My movements are practised. Expedient. Setting the tongs aside I open the Macallan Ruby and pour two fingers. The small crackle of the ice reminds me of how my weary bones feel right that moment.

I pivot slowly, sniffer in hand, and glide gracefully across the room to kneel at Sir Damien’s feet. Two feet from my destination I stumble, falling to one knee as the glass soars in the air so I can catch myself, lest I faceplant.

“What the fuck?!”

Starring up with wide horrified eyes, I see Sir Damien is drenched in the golden liquid, his shirt plastered to his chest. I scramble to dab at the wetness, my bare hands no use. “Kitten! What’s wrong with you?” You sound so upset with me, I’d never heard that tone before.

Turning my panicked eyes on you, meeting your furious gaze, I shiver. “I’m so, so sorry my Master!” Looking back at the less angry Dominant, I explain, “I’m so sorry Sir Damien. I swear it was an accident! My legs are just so tired from kneeling so long without moving and…” trailing off when I realize he’s not even looking at me, my brows furrow.

Following his gaze back to yours, my eyes widen as I watch your silent exchange and then your nod to Sir Damien. A feeling of anxiousness churning my insides. “My Master…?”
Two strong arms grip my waist, unceremoniously lifting me up, making me gasp. Sir Damien throws me over his shoulder and I squirm, fighting his hold across my thighs and calves. “Stop! Put me down!” I smack my open palm to his wide back, panic rising. “No, enough! Stop walking and put me down this instant!” Getting no response, I tilt my head back, my eyes wide with fear meeting yours. “Please, my Master! Tell him to stop! I beg you!”

You give me a flat look and my breath hitches in my lungs.

I continue to squirm, trying to fight the steel bands across my lower body, hands now pounding as your eyes disappear from my view and we enter one of the many playrooms in the mansion.

Letting me down, fingers gripping my hair before my toes even fully hit the ground. Removing his belt and looping it around my throat, he spins me around and pushes me, pulling me forward with his makeshift leash. He stops before a metal rig hanging from the ceiling. Tugging me the last few feet with a sharp jerk, I gag, feet almost tripping over themselves to cover the short distance, coming to a stop directly beneath the steel bar. “I would recommend you not anger us more than you already have, slave. You will NOT like the consequences.” Spinning me to face the door, I close my eyes chiding myself for having hope I’d see you walk in here and take me away. “Hands. Now.”

Without conscious thought I lift my arms and stretch them towards the hanging chains, knowing full well I’m to be tied to the contraption. A resigned look crosses my face as the Dominant at my back makes quick work of cuffing my wrists in plain manacles. He rounds me, filling my vision and I look up into his dark expression. Reaching into his pocket he retrieves a butterfly knife and spins it as it snaps into place. My breath stutters in my lungs as he runs it down from the dip in my neck to between my rapidly rising and falling breasts all the way to the edge of my dress. My body is so rigid, you could pluck me like a string on a guitar.

“Tsk, tsk. A clothed slave simply will not do.”

Gripping my hair in a painfully tight fist, he jerks my head back, running the knife down from my temple, over my cheekbones to my lips. Pressing the flat of the blade against my bottom lip, he pauses a moment, my body trembling in fear.

“Answer me, slave.”

The blade still pressed to my lips, I don’t know this man or what he’s capable of, nor what he’ll do to me, but a voice in my head sings like a litany, “Your Master always keeps you safe”. “N-no, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I watch as the knife moves, slipping beneath the left strap of my dress, and with a sharp pull, it’s shredded. The same is done to the right, tearing through the thin fabric like it’s paper. I shudder, a flush of embarrassment colouring my cheeks as the silk slips past my heaving breasts, down first my waist, then hips, pooling at my feet leaving me completely exposed. Naked. “That’s much better.” I can hear the smirk in his tone and my blush brightens.

Gripping the strap of the belt, he centres it between my tits, its end coming to rest just below my pussy lips. He flicks a finger over my hard nipple, the piercing pulling the sensitive nerves, sending a jolt of pleasure to my clit. His hands run over me, touching my body and it takes everything I have not to recoil from his foreign touch.

Rounding me, he runs his fingers through my long hair, he’s gentle as he begins to braid my hair and the softness of my hair brushing over my skin slowly helps me unwind my taut muscles. Relaxing a fraction, I give a little sigh of appreciation as it’s placed over my shoulder and a blindfold is placed over my eyes.

Shuffling, I hear footsteps, the door being opened and closed. More footsteps. It’s quiet for a moment as there’s more shuffling, a zipper being pulled, and things are moved around. My mind goes wild trying to imagine what’s happening, what’s making the noises I’m hearing, as though just from the sound of things I could guess exactly what was coming.

“Safeword.” Sir Damien’s voice comes to me somewhere off in the distance in the room. I furrow my brows as I try to distinguish where exactly it came from, but hesitate only a second before responding.

“Pineapple, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

He was to my right. Yes, somewhere behind me, over my right shoulder. From the distance of his voice, I’d guess a good ten paces away.

I startle as I feel the thongs of a flogger run softly across my spine and move over my left shoulder. It’s the only indication I have that the session is about to begin as the first strike lands over my ass. I hiss as the strands sink and bounce off my skin, the strength behind the impact guaranteeing angry welts will already cover my delicate skin.

An aria begins in the distance. Its soft, soothing sound envelops my senses.

I dance beneath the lashes, my back, hips and thighs getting equal attention causing me to curl my fingers into tiny fists, bend my knees, raise my shoulders, and move to my toes. I moan as each swing causes the belt’s tip to smack against my pussy lips as I jerk in my bindings. The pain radiates heat deep into my body, spreading like liquid over my muscles. I’m on fire. Lips parting, I throw my head back, a soft sound rising from my throat as my arms grip the chains binding me, the pain of the whipping almost unbearable.

My mind drifts as the rhythm follows the rise and fall of the piece and I reach a point where the pain isn’t pleasure, the pleasure isn’t pain. I just am.

I’m floating.

There’s nothing here, just euphoria. A deep sense of calm fills me and I lose touch with reality. I know not where I am, what’s happening. I know just this feeling. This peace. I no longer feel my body, the aches in my calves, the fire under my skin, the chafing of my wrists. I am weightless. My eyes may be blindfolded and closed, but I am a being of light. So very bright it eclipses any shadow as I’m driven inward.

All too soon I’m ripped from this little haven.

Zzzzap

I’m wrenched back into my body as the first jolt of electricity hits my soaked clit and I howl, tears stinging my eyes. I pant, trying to recover from the pain as another shock wracks my small frame when the prong is pressed to my breast. Unable to contain them, my tears fall freely as a calloused hand kneads my tit.

For a moment there is nothing but the sounds of breathing in the room. The rustling of fabric. The belt is removed from around my neck and water is poured along my skin. I gasp and shudder as the lukewarm water feels like icicles to my feverish flesh.

Warmth envelopes me as he presses his naked body to mine, his hard cock digging into my hip. I grunt in pain as the abused flesh is compressed between our bodies. Arms encircling my waist, one comes to tease a nipple as the other presses into my drenched folds, gently rubbing my throbbing clit. One by one my arms are freed, and carefully set down against my sides as I slump, body utterly depleted, offering no resistance. I don’t register the extra set of hands, I’m too tired to do anything but breathe.

Hand leaving my clit, it slips beneath my knees and I’m carried to the edge of a bed. Putting me down and bending me over the side, I feel the blindfold being removed from my tear-stained face. Blinking as the soft light fills my vision, I see Sir Damien seated clothed in a dark Chesterfield, stiff cock in hand, stroking as he watches me and…

I stiffen and look over my shoulder, exhaling in elation as your gaze meets mine.

“Welcome back, kitten mine,” you say as you dip your hips and align your cock at my entrance. “I wanted to keep going… but I can’t help myself, I need to be inside you.”

In one long, deep stroke you fill every inch of my tight little cunt, coming to a stop at the very base of my cervix.

Wrapping your forearm around my throat, you force me back into you, deepening the curl in my spine. I moan in ecstasy as you begin pounding my pussy like a man possessed, my breasts bouncing, our skin slapping. Sir Damien strokes his cock furiously as your fingers return to my needy clit.

I groan with every brutal thrust, the pain of your body slamming into mine a distant thought as you rub my pussy, cock stretching me as you impale me over and over.

Sir Damien’s orgasm seeming to set off my own, I clench down like a vise grip over your cock, setting off your own orgasm. Our three sets of harsh breaths echo in the otherwise silent room. Finally disturbing the silence, Sir Damien stands, shoving himself back in his pants and leaves, offering you a small dip in his chin.

Gathering me up in your arms, I wince as you deposit us in the middle of the bed and lay us down facing one another. Fingertips pushing a stray lock of my hair away from my face you smile into my tired face. Rubbing your nose against mine you lean back to ask, “what did you learn today my princess?”

Opening my eyes, I gaze down at your lips. “That I’m yours my Master.”

Nodding in approval, you give me a bright smile. “I’m proud of you my precious princess-slave, you obeyed despite thinking another man was touching you. In submitting to him, you learned how deeply you submit to me.” You run a finger over my bottom lip.

“You belong to me. I own everything about you, control everything you experience. It’s all mine. You’re all mine.”

“Yes my Master, I’m all yours. Entirely. Irrevocably. Yours.”

I stare at my hands, purposely ignoring the handcuffs chafing my wrists and grimacing. I need to file down my nails. Again. I lean forward, dropping my elbows on the plain white table, eyes scanning the plain soundproof walls, taking in the two-way window and single camera.

I sigh.

This isn’t how I envisioned my Thursday evening going. I needed to be out there.

The door clicks and I watch you walk through it, shutting it behind you. The stern look on your face has me straightening my spine, and sitting a little straighter in my chair.

You take a seat from me and open the equally plain file in your hands. Foregoing any greeting of sorts you look up at me with a frown. “Would you care to explain what you were doing contaminating my crime scene, Miss…” you look at the file, I’m assuming my name and I respond without waiting.

“Officer–”

“It’s a detective.” You huff, impatient.

I manage to contain an eye roll at the tone. “Right. Look detective,” I lift my arms, twisting my hands, “I hardly think these are necessary.”

You sit back in your chair, a smirk playing on your lips. Now it’s my turn to frown, unease gripping my stomach. “What you think isn’t relevant, Miss Clarke. The way I see it, you’ve got two choices. One, you make this easy on both of us and you tell me what you saw at the crime scene before it goes to print, or, two, you make this VERY hard on yourself and the cuffs stay.”

“You can’t keep me here, you can’t charge me for doing my job.” I scoff.

“Actually, I can. You crossed the tape and entered my domain. I don’t care if you chase stories, I don’t care what you write about, but I care if you screw up any evidence in my case. So you can have a lawyer present, but I will be very sure to make the wait until they get here,” you pause, glancing at your watch, “is anything but pleasant for you.”

In a soft tone, I ask, “Are you threatening me?”

“Not exactly.” You actually shrug. “It’s more of a warning. Whether you choose to heed it is up to you. So back to my initial question, what did you find Miss Clarke?”

I sneer. But remain quiet.

You grin a moment. “How unfortunate for me you’re such a delicious little thing.”

Dropping the file on the table, you rise from your seat and walk across the table. In a rush, you wrench my chair back, grabbing my biceps and lifting me as I gasp in surprise. Sitting me on the edge of the table you crowd my space. Lifting my hands in the tiny space left between us, I press my palms against your hard chest and push. You don’t budge an inch.

“Get. Off. Me.”

Gripping my hair in a tight fist, you shove my knees open and pull my neck back, so much so that I press my palms to the tabletop for support. You bury your face in the exposed column of my throat, breathing me in, while your other hand travels up my calf, to the inside of my thigh.

My heart beating wildly, my chest tightens as you touch me, fear overtaking me.

“Please stop. I don’t want this.”

Moving my head to meet your eyes, you ask, “ Ready to talk now?”

I try to mask my fear and give you a stony expression in response.

You grunt, a wicked smile curling your lips. “Then it looks like this is exactly what you want.” Lifting my skirt around my hips, you press your hard cock against a scrap of lace protecting me from you. Letting go of my hair, you wrap an arm around my waist, your right hand covering my breast, kneading the firm mound in a bruising grip.

I make a small sound, halfway between a hiss and a moan.

“Of course, I could always round up a couple more detectives to take turns interrogating you…”

I shudder at the thought.

You kiss me. Hard. Your lips bruising, devouring. I fight your hold as you reach up from behind me, gripping my hair to keep me still. Bunching my top in your hands, you forcefully pull it up, jerking my arms up involuntarily as you wrench it from my body.

Lips on my throat, you suck a moment as I lift my cuffed arms and pull the silk top to my breasts. Angry tears fill my eyes threatening to spill over. I feel so powerless against you, your strength, your desire.

Wrapping your fingers around my throat, you squeeze lightly, pulling me off the table, and like a puppet, my body obeys even as my mind rebels. You twist me around, shoving me down over the table. My cheek smacks against the metal and I grunt at the pain.

“Motherfucker! That hurt!”

“Good. Then you know I’m serious and I will have you.”

I kick out behind me, swinging in empty air. “You can’t do this! You’re supposed to protect people, not rape them!” I scream back at you, terror gripping me.

Leaning over me, you whisper harshly against my ear, “Babe, I’m the law. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. Including raping you…”

Unhooking my bra, the straps spring open, slipping down my soft skin, the table the only thing keeping it in place. I jerk violently, futilely trying to break free of your hold, even while you reach beneath my skirt, ripping my panties. “You’re so fucking hot.”

I wiggle, trembling with fear as one of your hands leaves my body to go to your pants. Pulling your cock out, I gaze back at you in time to see you spit in your hand, lubricating yourself.

“No, no, no. no. nooooooo!”

Ignoring my pleas, I can feel you press your cockhead against my pussy lips, seeking my entrance. You smack my ass as I try to shift under you. In one deep, brutal thrust you bury yourself to the hilt. I gasp. One hand pushing my face into the tabletop, the other digging into my hip, you hold me still as you slam into me. Over and over. Grunting like a wild animal, you beat my pussy, making me wet despite myself. I moan in both pleasure and pain as you pound my cervix.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Groaning you slow down a moment, easing your strokes, my pussy aching. ”Ready to tell me what you know, Miss Clarke?”

Still struggling beneath you, I grit out a breathy, “go fuck yourself.”

Your hand slams down, smacking my ass, alternating cheeks, as you resume your punishing rhythm inside me. “Babe, that’s exactly what I’m using you for…” I scream as each strike lands. Digging your fingers into my hair, you grip the roots tightly, raising my chest off the table, pulling me back into you as you drive into me. The force curves my spine, and somehow you feel even deeper like you’re trying to fuck my womb. Breasts freed of the confines of my bra, it falls to meet the shirt bunched at my wrists. Wrenching on the soft mound, you torture the sensitive nipple, twisting and pulling the small nub.

I howl in pain. The sound reverberates across the soundproof room.

“That’s it you fucking whore, take my cock like a good little fuckslut!” You hiss in my ear.

Next, your hand skims down my body, coming to rest between the narrow gap between my thighs. You pinch my clit.

My world explodes, my small body convulsing as I cum, milking your cock as my pussy clenches, frame shuddering. The tightness does you in and you groan, spurting your semen inside me, bathing my womb in your cum.

Slowing your thrusts until you soften and slip out, you gather me in your arms and sit us on one of the chairs. Harsh breaths subsiding, and you reach into a pocket of your pants and withdraw the key to the handcuffs. Placing it in the keyhole, you unlock them, removing them from my abused wrists.

I moan as you place soft kisses on the raw skin. Cupping my cheek in a rough palm, you pull me into you, softly kissing me. Seducing my lips into a deeper kiss. Leaning your forehead against mine, you smile. “Always so delicious. Same time next week?”

Grinning, I nod, stroking your cheek. “Oh yes, Sir!”