Ceremony

She was not prepared for the blast of heat as she left the artificial cool of the Metro station. The summer was like an oven and bathed the street in brilliant, harsh, white light. The sand in the vacant block beside her blazed brilliant  white, while the breeze lifted it into little columns and eddies which seemed to hang in the air for the moment before collapsing. The ubiquitous hotel and apartment buildings lined the street, behind which rose the odd oblong of the Ski Dubai construction. Far in the distance the sharp spike of the Burj Khalifa pointed at the sky like an exclamation mark on the horizon. She looked about her and took the printed instructions from her handbag, unfolding the paper carefully, pausing to admire the carefully chosen font, and the erotic border. He certainly had a style about Him.

She had met Alex via the usual means, through a website which dealt with the kind of lifestyle which, although it held her fascination for many years, she had yet to have an experience. All that was about to change, she thought to herself. She had known of her own submissive urges for a long time, and at first had found it confusing and strange. She had wondered if there was something wrong with her, that she, alone, felt the urge to be controlled, to submit to a man, but in due course, she discovered various websites devoted to the lifestyle and timidly she began to venture into the arcane world which both thrilled and frightened her. Her appetite for erotic literature devoted to the subject grew enormously, and she found herself reading salacious novels full of torture, whipping, humiliation and bondage at work, carefully angling the monitor away from the glances of colleague. Such was her desire that at times she was propelled to the ladies, her mind filled with images of degradation and ritualised fucking. Eventually she summoned the courage to post an advertisement on a suitable site, just to see who might reply, and she had, of course, received many propositions from would – be Doms, many of which revealed themselves to be not the kind of man she was looking for. She had exchanged several messages with various men, and then Alex appeared. A simple no nonsense introduction of himself, with all the initial questions already answered, and a brief summary of his experience and the kinds of things he was interested in. Sensible, to the point, logical and articulate, his message seemed to stand out from the crowd of “On your knees, bitch” kinds of messages she had received. What appealed to her was that he seemed so down to earth and essentially respectful, so she replied, and several exchanges of messages later, she met him in a café.

He was certainly not what she had expected. In her mind she had constructed an image of an impossibly handsome, stupendously rich Christian Grey character, however, Alex was exactly as he had described himself, middle aged, average looks and build with short grey hair. What she did not expect was his warm smile and sparkling eyes, when he saw her in the café. He was genuinely pleased to meet her, and as he ordered coffee them both, she realised that she had to abandon the “Fifty shades of Grey” delusion and consider the real life person she had encountered. It occurred to her that she was certainly not the   perfectly sculpted models of the novels she read either, and as she watched him smiling at the girl serving behind the counter, it dawned on her that she liked him. He was charming, warm, confident, and witty and he did not charge headlong into discussing BDSM, in fact, the subject barely arose in the first hour of their conversation, although she was well aware that it was below the surface. It certainly became the subject of a torrent of emails that they exchanged. He answered her questions, explained various details with attention and patience. Barely a week later, she agreed to present herself at his home to become his submissive.

The instructions were very precise and detailed. Turn left, walk ten meters, turn right, look for the grocery store. The instructions had included other details, with which she had carefully complied. As instructed, she was freshly shaved, wearing a black dress, not particularly revealing, but with high black heels. What surprised her was that she did not feel particularly nervous or anxious. There was something about his manner that put her at ease, but there was a kind of sternness, a strength that she sensed and she suddenly felt a ripple of desire run through her.

She walked steadily along the street, intensely aware of her beating heart and her bare pussy which felt the warm air. There was something intensely arousing about walking about in public, naked except for the slightly diaphanous dress and black heels. She finally came to the apartment, paused for a moment, looking at the blandly decorated foyer, then stepped into the cool of the building, suddenly feeling the cold air embrace her sensitive nether regions. She realised she was intensely aware of her naked, cleanly shaved pussy open to the air which felt even the most minor change in atmosphere. He had given her this order with a purpose.  Ascending in the lift, she watched as the iridescent green numbers of the lift display counted the floors . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . The lift door slid open with well oiled precision and she stepped into the corridor.

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Of course I had made all necessary preparations for her visit, planned the session with care, made sure that the correct equipment was in the right places. There was nothing worse than suddenly discovering that a required item was in the bottom of a box somewhere. I guess this kind of detail is something that one learns from experience, but I can’t help thinking that experience is very overrated in the world of BDSM. Much of it comes down to common sense and a certain attitude towards one’s intended submissive. I was aware of my own predilections for so many years, and once I became sexually active, I very quickly applied my interests, but it took a long time for a natural dominance to develop, and I still feel I have a lot to learn about being a Dom and the subtleties of a BDSM relationship. It was a challenging lifestyle to be a part of. Submissives were few and far between, and there always seemed to be complications. She was different. There seemed a kind of purity about her. She seemed to want to be purely known as herself, there was no veil or shadow. The other aspect to her that thrilled me was her obvious excitement at having encountered a Dom, and her evident desire to please.

                       ********************************

She paused at the dark wooden door that loomed in front of her. “402”, the number clearly marked. She hesitated. Questions ran through her mind. Could she be a submissive? Would she please him? Is this what she really wanted? No, she realised she was, at last, very nervous.

This was it . . . Here she was, wearing nothing but a simple black dress, about to be at the feet of a man she did not really know, about to be completely vulnerable, exposed . . .defenceless . . . the thought sent a ripple of desire through her and she sensed her sex, open to the cool, suddenly moisten.

“That’s why I am here, doing this”, she thought. As instructed, she tapped gently at the door. She strained to listen and sensed, rather than heard a slight movement from within. 

“Enter”, the command was sharp, unexpectedly loud. Authoritative. Gingerly, she grasped the doorhandle and, a moment later, stepped into the room.

He sat in a thronelike chair at the other end of a of a fairly large living room. He seemed different, however. While he again wore a suit, this time it was a black on black suit, shirt and tie, and she was stransfixed both by his grey eyes which regarded her coldly, wolflike, but also by the riding crop which dangled casually from one hand. She took a second to assay the room. Large dark framed pictured covered the walls, while on the floor was a thick Persian carpets, which entirely covered the floor. The entire back wall was covered in a dark maroon satin curtain, while simiar curtains framed the only other doorway of the room. There was a couch which appeared to be a bed, covered in a huge pile of richly decorated cushions.

Time seemed to suddenly slow and stand still for a moment, and the silence was pervasive.

Suddenly the moment was broken.

“Put down your bag and turn off your phone” . his tone was quet, almost curteous, but it was clearly a command. She realised, of course, that a ringing phone would be intrusive, but she hesitated to cut off her link to the outside world.

Obey.

She heard an inner voice inside her head. She fumbled looking for her phone, switched it off, placed it back inside her bag which she placed on the floor. Alex watched her patiently and with interest, then pointed to the middle of the room, the center of the pattern the ornate carpet. She walked quietly to the place he indicated. Her breath came deeply and she could feel her heart pounding. The was such an atmosphere, such aprehension, foreboding but also a sensual, erotic, dark ambience.

This time the order was just that, an order. Sharp clear and filled with authority and menace. She instantly complied. To do anything else was unthinkable.

“Your cuffs will be placed on you first. Then you will be read your vows of obedience. Stand still”. He stood gracefully, and stepped behind her. She heard him step behind her and a box opening. There was a temptation to turn and see what he was doing, however instinct told her to continue gazing at the large, beautifully framed oversized print of John Collier’s “Lilith” on the opposite wall above the gothic armchair from which he had arisen. For a moment, she pondered the eroticism and potential symbolism of the painting before a ripple of excitement ran through her as she heard the the slight clink of metal, buckles, straps, the very things she had longed for and seen in so many pictures and videos. She felt a shiver run through her, a sudden wampth seeped into her belly and a strange sense of satisfaction. She had longed to meet a dominant man and experience this wonderful, hidden arcane world and now it was happening, within this richly ornate, quiet room..

He forcefully pulled her wrists behind her, and wrapped the cuffs around her wrists and ankles, pulling them tight, but making sure they were snug. While he was fixing her restraints, she surveyed the room further. It was absolutely unique, lit only by lamps placed in odd locations low on the floor or high on shelves, they threw strange shadows. The walls were covered in more framed prints, strange, dark and mysterious images, interspersed with skulls, masks and rich tapestries. The lounge was simply a pile of cushions. It was a riot of middle eastern and gothic influences. She looked past the couch to the low table which stood along one wall, and her eyes widened as she realised she was looking at a collection of what could only be described as instruments of torture. Chrome Nipple clamps glittered in the lamplight, alongside black leather floggers, plugs and dildoes. Just as she realised what she was looking at a blindfold was swiftly fastened around her head and all was darkness.

Moments passed . . .

The warmpth in her belly was spreading to her crotch, her pussy. Again, she felt a shiver run through her, but this time she couldn’t tell if it was fear, excitement or arousal. Perhaps all of these.

“Cross your hands in front of you, and put your feet together”. She immediately complied, and the thought occurred to her that she was being forced to stand in a very sublime, almost chase position.

“Sand straight. Lift your head up!”

A ripple of both pleasure and fear ran thgrough her. He was making her bahave, stand correctly. Evidently he had resumed his position in the armchair, judging from the direction of his voice.

Suddenly the room was filled with music, The Gregorian Chant, gothic, dark, sung by the monks in European monasteries of the middle ages, it was somehow perfect, reminicent of rituals and rites.

His voice came, deep and smooth,  relaxed, yet strangely formal.

“And now you will give your vows of obedience. I will read each verse, and you will respond with ‘Yes Sir”

“Yes” she breathed.

“Yes,  . . .  Sir!” he snapped, and she stiffened with the rebuke.

“Yes Sir” she hurredly replied.

The was a slight pause as if he was emphasising the point.

“Of you own free will you give yourself to me, your Master as a slave for my enjoyment and pleasure . . .”

. . . and the vows continued, beautifully written as a set of marriage vows, but filled with dark, erotic words, during which time she willingly and without hesitation, vowed to give her body to Him, all of her holes for his use and pleasure, she agreed that if she did not please Him she would be punished, whipped . . . and all the while she felt her belly grow hotter and hotter, a flood building up inside her, the erotic, sexy phrases and words, to which she happily agreed with a compliant “yes, Sir”

Finally the vows were completed.

She realised the music had changed to an intense modern throbbing drumbeat. 

She noted a shift in his tone, he was no longer reading.

“Now, the choice is yours. If you do not agree to these terms and rules, you may simply remove the blindfold and you are free to leave. . .”

A pause.

She waited, realising that this was a threshold moment.

“If you agree to these Vows of Obedience, and wish to be trained as a submissive,  . . . . SPREAD YOUR LEGS AND LIFT YOUR DRESS!”

The last phrase was delivered firmly, loudly and slowly, with certainty and dicisiveness.

Oh God, this was it. She was being ordered to shamelessly reveal her intimate feminine places for her Master.

Before she knew what she was doing she was standing with her legs parted and her dress held high, feeling his gaze on her naked pussy. She felt deep, deep desire snaking through her, powefull , instinctive . . . and she was gripped by a strange shaking.

Suddenly she felt Him step behind her, and He deftly swept her cuffed wrists  behind her back and with a single “click” her wrists were secured behind her. She was vulnerable, open, at his mercy.

There was a breath on her shoulder, and from behind her she heard, softly at first, then louder a deep growl . . . primal . . . .beastal

. . . soft lips on her shoulder . . . her neck, then teeth, biting her, while his hands suddenly swept over her body, evaluating her, lifting her breasts, weighing them and finally sweeping down over her thighs.

. . . and the dam burst, her pussy was suddenly flooding, dripping, soaked with her juices which flowed freeliy down her thighs.

One of his hands lifted the front of her skirt, while the other cupped her dripping cunt. She could hear Him breathe his satisfaction into her ear, as a finger slid into her, then a second, then pull sharply upward, gripping her body by her cunt pulling her hips upward, and the slowly pumping in and out. Her body rippled with tension and she was shocked to realise that she was nearing climax, as his fingers rocked in and out of her, relentlessly, cruely squeesing pleasure from her while his mouth continued to violate her neck, kissing and nipping at her

. . .  and finaly she came, gloriously, a tidal wave of pleasure pushing her pussy outward infront of her seeking as much of his hand as possible, while He forced her to ride out the orgasm, wringing the pleasure from her body. At last she was spent, her head lolling back on his shoulder while He supported her.

She realised she had been in the room for less than ten minutes and He had already forced her to come.

                               ******************************

I was quite astonished at her reaction to my “ceremony”. Not only was she very confident, comfortable in the idea of being a submissive, she was also incredibly sexual, orgasmic, and I already adored the way she came. Her whole body shuddered with a powerful tremors. When I met her in the café, I noted that she was very calm and seemed eager for the experience. She was not expecting a Dom, but she seemed genuinely excited to meet me. Perhaps she was just looking for someone a bit different, who could offer her more than the average guy. . . . but I was not prepared for the sopping wet, hot, woman that now leaned against me. My hand was coated with her slick, slippery woman juices, and I could smell the sweet aroma of lust. Her shackled hands had found their way to my crotch and she was exploring my rapidly stiffening organ. Again, this was a good sign. In simple terms, I want a cock loving slut. Some women are just simply focussed on the male organ. They want to play with it, make it hard, suck it, feel it penetrating them, make it squirt. This is one aspect of a submissives I am looking for.

The first scene with a potential submissive is very complex, as there is a lot going on at once. Firstly, I am often introducing someone to a world which they might think is dangerous, something which is potentially threatening, but to which they are drawn by powerful urges. I know that they are perfectly safe, but they don’t, so I have to be cautious. At the same time I don’t want them too relaxed and content, because a certain amount of tension goes a long way to producing erotic effect. I have often compared it to the “Horror Movie” kind of fear. You know the monster can’t jump out of the screen and kill you, but nonetheless, fear is akin to excitement, and excitement can be easily turned into arousal.

I was also watching her for my own purposes. Ultimately, I am looking for a slave, a woman who will give herself to me, who will not just think of me as her boyfriend with whom she has kinky sex from time to time, but as her Master. I am looking for a woman for whom submission is its own reward, whose focus is entirely my pleasure, someone who is instinctively obedient, who can be trained to perform to my expectations, someone who is focussed on cock and willing the have it thrust down their throat, or have it fill their cunt or ass, if it pleases their Master, and for whom punishment isn’t necessarily a purely negative experience. While punishment has its place in a BDSM relationship, pain is perhaps the most difficult aspect with which to find a comfortable balance. Fortunately, I am not necessarily driven by deeply sadistic urges, however there is no doubt that whipping a woman who is restrained in a vulnerable position has an enormous erotic appeal for me, especially, and only if I know she secretly enjoys the experience. Like mountain climbing, BDSM is something that is thrilling and exciting, but which is going to involve some degree of pain. Having said that, a high pain threshold, or at least a reasonably high limit in which I have some room to manoeuvre is preferable. BDSM is not simply a one way street, and I am also there to ensure the submissive is satisfied sexually, and finds the whole experience thrilling, exhilarating and exciting. 

I waited till she recovered a little, steadied her by gripping her shoulders for a moment, detached the clip that held her wrists together, and then stepped away. I noted a slight hint of disappointment as she released my cock, again, a good sign.

Giving the order to the submissive to undress for the first time is a ritual that has a deep significance for me. It is often the first command that I give a submissive, and it is the first moment I would see her completely naked. It is the point at which the submissive reveals her body to me, and there is, of course, a great enjoyment to tell a woman to take her clothes off before me, and have her comply. It also tells me about one of the most crucial aspects of the woman’s submission, and that is obedience. A sub must obey, without hesitation, any command given to her, no matter how humiliating, no matter how embarrassing or uncomfortable. The first disrobing of submissive can also be quite revealing to watch them undress, because it tells me not only how they are reacting to the situation, and how they are feeling, but also a great deal about how they see their body. Are they hesitant, shy, embarrassed, resistive, defiant? Do they take the opportunity to put on a striptease? Do they relish the opportunity to flaunt their body?

I unclipped the cuffs behind her, and resumed my place in my chair.

“TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!”

I took care to deliver the words, slowly, deeply and with authority.  I am well aware of my voice as an erotic tool. I know how effective a voice alone can be, especially when the subject is blindfolded, as in this case.

She fumbled for a moment finding the hem of her dress, and in a single swift moment, swept it up over her head. There was no hesitation. Her movement said “Here it is. I am giving it to you. Do what you want with it!” I stood and enjoyed the moment. I relished her nudity, her fine brown body, the dark nipples, and the neat purse of the naked, hairless lips of her cunt, which still glistened with the honey she had produced during my first exploration of her.

I was aware that she was still riding the energy of her recent climax, and I wanted to take advantage of that before the passion slipped away. I wanted to assess her to see if she was multi orgasmic, another admirable ability in a submissive. Some women can naturally slide from one orgasm to the next, while others need to be trained to have more than one orgasm, while still others need a great deal of training, attention and understanding in order to have an orgasm at all. Making slaves come is the purpose of a Dom. It’s as simple as that. This is one of the things that separates Doms from our vanilla counterparts. Doms are naturally focussed on making their slaves orgasm. There is a great satisfaction in having a submissive’s body confirm with orgasms that she needs to be dominated, servile, obedient, restrained, and punished. My purpose is to force my slave to climax, and this gives me a great deal of fulfilment. There is no question that she was a very orgasmic young woman, but I wanted to push that.

The next ritual involves the submissive allowing their body to be studied and evaluated. Again, the reaction of the submissive is very instructive. Most women only have their feminine openings seen in such detail by a gynaecologist, where as a Dom has a complete right to do whatever He wishes with a submissives body.

“You will now be inspected. . . . lie on the couch on your back” I said, slipping off the blindfold.

I could have ordered her onto the table, however it would have taken time to restrain her in a suitable position, and I wanted her to continue being stimulated. In due course, as she learned her positions, I could have simply pointed at the table and said ‘Position one”.

. . . Again, unhesitating obedience. She lay against the cushions, instinctively her legs were thrown wide, as if she knew what I was intending to do. Obedience, submission and a shameless sluttiness that I found compellingly attractive.

I quickly connected her wrists to her ankles. While I wanted to catch the moment, I wanted her to be restrained in some way as a reminder of the situation. I pushed her legs back by the top of the thighs, and relished the sight before me. A perfectly formed, glistening wet cunt, and her dark little asshole, which was already moistened by a substantial wet trickle of fluid which ran down across it. I was pleased to see a large beat of lubricant emerging from her vaginal opening.

Her ass would be the subject of a good deal of my attentions, as I expect my slave to eventually be able to please me with that orifice as well, however that could wait until she was more familiar with her role. For the moment I wanted to focus on her clitoris and wring another climax from her if possible.

I paused long enough for her to understand that I was looking at her openings with relish. She needed to understand that I had that right, and that it would be as a normal part of our play.

. . . I then gave her a long, slow, leisurely, deliberate lick, starting at the bottom, lingering over her asshole, tickling the entrance with the tip of my tongue. I began at this place because I wanted her to understand that this part of her body belonged to me along with all the rest. I felt her quiver and tense with surprise with my invasion of her most secret of openings, but I reaffirmed my authority by pressing her legs open a little further and gave her anus some firm, deliberate licks. She relaxed and I then glided my tongue over her perineum, the space between the anus and the vaginal entrance, often overlooked by men, and a very sensitive spot. She knew what was coming next and I felt her legs widen of their own accord. Slutty little whore. Good.

I dived my tongue deep into her cunt and swirled it around the entrance, enjoying the musky flavour of her, and her abundant juices. I heard her sigh with a deep, lusty groan, and I continued to lap at her pussy, slowing and accelerating the pace. I felt her breathing quicken, and I stole a look upward, between her delightfully rounded breasts, to her eyes, and noted that they were closed, her lips parted slightly. She seemed to be in a lust induced trance.

Finally I arrived at my ultimate destination, the firm little bud of her clitoris which nestled between the delicate folds of her outer lips. I gave it some experimental licks and felt her body twitch in response. Taking the tiny organ between my lips, I gently sucked it into my mouth, being careful to keep it clear of my teeth, neatly pinioning it, and then, gradually at first, then faster and faster, flicked my tongue over the tip, eventually setting a steady rhythm. I could sense her desire rising, and I released one of her legs, freeing one hand.

Obediently, she kept her legs spread wide open, and I allowed my fingers to drift down her thigh toward her gaping cunt. As my fingers entered her, I realised there had been a fresh flood of lubricant, and she moaned as I began to pump my fingers in and out of her. Two fingers were enough to provide the tension she needed and I settled into a steady rhythm, synchronising the movements of my hand and tongue. With my lower fingers, I carefully explored the area below her pussy, which was by now coated in slippery fluid. I grazed, then stroked her buttocks and was rewarded by a slight shift in her position. I no longer had to hold her legs back, as she arched her back, pushing her gushing cunt into my face, and also offering me her rear entrance. I gently probed the puckered orifice with the tip of my little finger. I felt it tense, momentarily, and the rest of her body stiffened slightly as she realised my intention, then she relaxed and very gradually I slid the tip of my finger into her ass, pausing after the initial intrusion, and waited for her to become used to the sensation, before slowly withdrawing and reinserting my finger, all the while increasing the assault on her clit while vigorously pumping my fingers in and out of her slippery pussy. Every time I penetrated her ass, I pushed my finger slightly further up the tight opening, thoroughly lubricated with her own juices, the resistance gradually lessened, and I fingered her ass firmly and with purpose.

I had good reason to pay such attention to her ass. I fully intended to introduce her to anal sex, and train her to be fucked in the ass. There is a real art to training a submissive to accept anal fucking, and, if done correctly, a submissive will learn to willingly accept her Master’s cock in her ass. For a sexually open and submissive woman, anal sex can offer enormous pleasures, and an experienced and skilled Dom knows how to stimulate other parts of her body notably her clitoris, manually or with a vibrator to bring about such pleasure, and eventually an orgasm. For some submissives, being restrained with her anal opening fully exposed and vulnerable while her Master steadily slides a well lubricated cock into her is exquisite. For others, the humiliation of being obscenely sodomised is in itself a turn on. For a true submissive, the desire to bring pleasure to her Master with any part of her body is enough to bring her to offer Him her tightest and most enticing opening. For me, the pleasure of fucking my sub in the ass is beyond description. Training a submissive for anal sex takes time and patience, and through Pavlovian conditioning the submissive will gradually learn to associate anal play with pleasure. On the whole, anal training should be pleasurable, gradually allowing the submissive to accept her ass as a sexual organ which can provide both herself and her Master a great deal of pleasure.

For the moment, all I wanted her to learn was that I would make use of her ass as I pleased, and I became aware that she was enjoying my fingering her ass in combination with attentions to the rest of her sensitive places. I kept working her, flicking and nibbling her clitoris, wedging my fingers in and out of her dripping cunt while violating her ass with my smallest finger with long, deep rhythmic strokes.

At last, my patience was rewarded. I felt a quiver, a spasm, which ran through her. Again, I looked up to her face and it was obvious she was lost in erotic bliss. I increased the pace slightly and began impaled her cunt more firmly. Another spasm ran through her and I felt her body arch more, the tensed, and with a stuttering, breathlessly.  With pleasure, I felt her anal canal suddenly grip my finger, involuntarily contracting around it.

“Sir . . . may . . . may your . . . little slut come”

Not wishing to remove my mouth at this critical moment, I grunted an assent, and almost immediately her body arched and shook, while I concentrated on not allowing the contact with her clit, pussy and ass to be broken. Her body shook violently as I forced her to ride out the climax, wringing all the pleasure from her body that I could. Eventually the orgasm subsided, and I felt her slump into exhaustion, I gently slid my sopping fingers out of her and growled

“Good Girl”

Her coming is immensely satisfying to me, and I feel a great pleasure in seeing her climax, as she does so with such energy and enthusiasm. Of course I would have her see to my pleasure in due course, however I made sure she achieved climax while in a submissive role, restrained and with all of her holes filled.

I hoped that she had learned quite a number of things. Firstly that I would always focus on her pleasure, and had the skills to make her come. Secondly, she would associate several things with pleasure: bondage, anal play, and submission in general. As time would go by she would understand that while I demanded a lot from her as a submissive, she would be rewarded with pleasure, satisfaction, and a rich exciting sex life.

I carefully detached her wrists from her ankle cuffs and gently unfolded her legs so that they lay flat on the bed. She’d had her legs pressed wide open for some time and she needed a change of position. She lay still, her eyes still closed, relishing the warm afterglow of her orgasm. We were silent. The afternoon sun lanced golden rays through the curtains and tiny specs of dust danced like fireflies in the light. Again, time seemed to stand still. She breathed steadily.

On impulse, I gripped her thigh, and pulled her over. After a second she realised my intention and rolled herself onto her stomach. Obedience, compliance, submission. All those aspects I found in her. Her slutty opening of her legs, her silent acquiescence of first explorations of her ass, her polite request to orgasm, and most of all her dripping, wet pleasure at my touch.

She had all the signs of becoming a good submissive, and possibly, with time and training a perfect slave. She was uncomplicated, pure, clean, willing and happy to be at my feet. I looked at the pleasing globes of her ass beautifully lit by the golden afternoon light.

The afternoon sun filled the room with a golden light. There was silence apart from the distant rumble of traffic. We lay on the couch, my sub completely naked except for collar and cuffs, lying on her stomach. Watched as her body rose and fell slightly with her breathing. Her eyes were closed and I wondered if she had fallen asleep. My eyes lingered on her beautifully rounded backside. I suddenly became aware of her eyes on me and I realised she was looking at me. Without shifting her gaze, she parted her legs, giving me a view of her vulva and ass. I smiled. She was aware that I was looking at her body and had shifted position to give me a better view. Perfect. It was that willingness to please that thrilled me about her. Her eye sparkled with enjoyment at the pleasure she brought me, and I decided it was time to continue our play. I leisurely began to stroke the curve of her backside, dipping my hand into the fold, stroking her vulva and ass.    

I clapped my hands twice. The sound seemed loud in the quiet room. Wordlessly she shifted herself so that she was facing directly away from me, tucked her knees under her, putting her head low as possible on the couch with her cheek to one side, her ass high in the air, and I had a perfect view of her pink, wet pussy and her dainty tight ass. I continued to touch and pleasure her in gently and slowly, I felt her relax.

Up until this point, I had pleasured her, but it was time for her to serve me.  Still wearing my suit, I decided to do some training in the CMNF style, or “Clothed Male, naked female”. This was one of the rather more appealing subgenres of BDSM, in which the Dom remains fully dressed, while the submissive is completely naked, giving the Dom a certain degree of power.

I suddenly gave her a firm smack on one cheek of her ass.

“Go into the bathroom and prepare yourself, put on your shoes and fetch your leash”

“Yes, Sir”

“Good Girl”

She instantly complied, quickly walking out of the room, and I watch her as she left. She still walked with a certain lack of grace and she should be aware that at any time she exited the room, almost certainly my eyes would be on her ass. She needed to learn how to walk in such a way that it emphasised the beauty of her behind. She had a lot to learn.

She took her time in the bathroom, presumably adjusting her makeup. I like heavy makeup, especially around the eyes, bright red lipstick, not only for aesthetic effect, but also because by indulging my preferences, it was an indication that she was willing to please me. I did not mind waiting. She might also have a shower, as I expected her to keep herself clean and fresh. This morning’s activities had resulted in some serious quantities of feminine juices being spread all over her. One of the qualities of a Dom is acceptance and patience, and if she was taking the time to do something to please me, then I was certainly willing to wait. I took the time to rearrange the room, moving the table out of the way, clearing the center of the room. I then returned to the couch, and picked up a novel that I had been reading.

Presently she returned to the room, wearing her black high heeled shoes, sporting some very heavy makeup, just as I like it, dark eye shadow with an artistic little curl at the corner of each eye, with a dark red lipstick. With surprise I saw that she had rouged her nipples with the same cosmetic, producing a perfect triangle between the three points. Knowing that some play was about to take place, she had put her jet black hair in a tight ponytail high at the back of her head. She look absolutely gorgeous. The combination of the dark makeup, her collar and cuffs, black leather and chrome with glinted in the light, the bright ring of her collar dangling from her throat, the high heels which did a lot for her posture, and her shaved, exposed nudity.

One of the aspects of submission is that it is in fact very creative. While Dominants put a huge amount of thought to how to train and please submissives, a good submissive will always find ways to please her Master, which she had done with her makeup, and she now did with language: Kneeling before me holding the leash in front of me, her darkly decorated eyes lowered, and said in a quiet voice:

“Sir, your slave is ready for her training”

Beautiful . . . perfect . . . I could not want more. I resisted the urge to simply take her there and then.

“Beautiful little slut  . . . . You are such a treasure” I cupped her face in my hand, and I sensed her blush with pleasure.

“You will be rewarded for such grace” and I saw her smile slightly. She knew that I would be taking great pains to stimulate her in all kinds of devious ways, which she relished. I would certainly ensure that she received a serious pleasuring for that carefully crafted performance.

This was the secret of BDSM. While the submissive served and pleased her Dom, so too, the Master ensured that the submissive was always cared for, that she enjoyed abundant sexual pleasure, that she was rewarded well for her service, and would be punished for her disobedience.

Her training was to take place on several levels. Firstly I was gradually training her attitude, stripping away the selfish, self-centred surface layers to reveal the beautiful submissive that she truly was, and to relish being owned by and serving her master. This was done through objectification and humiliation. I forced her to urinate in front of me, to masturbate herself as I watched. I referred to her as “fuck meat”, or “slut” or fuck toy”. Secondly, I was training her for sexual service, teaching her how to deep throat, to enjoy anal sex, to please me, and herself, in every way possible. Not only was this for my enjoyment, but also for hers. Her anal training was steadily progressing, and she was regularly having orgasms while her ass was being filled or stimulated. Thirdly I was giving her positional training, how to sit, stand, crawl and walk. So far she had leant the basic positions, but she was still very weak in this area and she needed to be reminded of my expectations. Finally, I was teaching her obedience, which was achieved through reward and punishment. Training is not just a matter of lots of bondage, whipping and fucking. It had to have goals, structure, and purpose. This session would cover oral service positions and walking, as well as anal training. The later was a ubiquitous element in training as it had to be continuous. It was the one area which, if done correctly, would take the longest.

I took a ring gag from the tray on which I had arranged the equipment I would need for the session, and clicked my fingers twice. One of the sanding orders was that on the sound of a finger click, she would open her mouth, either for a gag to be fitted or for my cock. Once the gag was in place I paused to take in the effect. The cherry red lipstick now framed the chrome gag, which left her mouth wide open for use.

“You are now to be trained to serve your Master orally. Use the tip of your tongue on the head only”. I stood in front of her imperiously, with my hands folded as she fumbled to release my erect shaft from my trousers. For practicality sake, I went commando and she very shortly had my cock in her hand, masturbating me to full erectness.

Gripping her head by the convenient ponytail, I slid the head of my cock through the ring, which was just big enough for the head to penetrate. Obediently she began to flick her tongue over the tip of my cock, circling it then touching the opening at the tip as if seeking to enter it. The gag had the dual purpose of keeping her mouth open, which meant that her saliva began to drool down her chin, which I found very charming.

“That’s it Whore, make that tongue dance! . . . good little slut”. She obviously enjoyed this kind of encouragement.

“Work that cock . . . What an obedient little fucktoy” I allowed her to play with the head of my cock for some time. She obediently kept her hands behind her in the usual position. I had chosen not to bind them, as I wanted her hands free for what was next. I slipped out the gag, and took a pair of wooden skewers from the tray.

‘Stick out your tongue” She did so. “Further” she made the effort to protrude her tongue as far as possible, and I fixed the skewers around her tongue, one above, and one below, secured with a couple of rubber bands at either end. One of the benefits of this quite simple gag is that it accentuates the drooling effect which I fully intended to take advantage of. There was already a sheen of saliva down her breasts.

I gave a one single word command, and she knew what she had been trained to do. She brought her hands up, and circled the base of my scrotum, stretching the skin so it formed a smooth surface. Because the gag restricted the movement of her tongue, she had to move her entire head, and I gripped her ponytail more firmly, forcing her head to move in the correct way.

“Nice, long licks, slave”   

I knew she liked being forced to perform as I wished and I held her head tightly,

“Now the cock”, and she swiftly switched to my erect penis, delivering long luxurious licks from the base of my balls to the tip of my cock.

“Good Girl’, I said, releasing her head and allowing her to perform on her own. I delighted in the exquisite sensation, enjoying the wetness of her slobber all over my cock and balls, and I was very pleased when she returned her attention to my balls, then back to the cock.

It was time to press some limits. I swiftly released her tongue from the gag and pulled one wrist behind her. Obediently she brought the other into place and kept her mouth open. By this time there was a flood of drool all over her.

I grabbed her head and pushed my cock into her mouth, looking for the back of her throat, she struggled to accommodate my thrusting and fought the reflex to gag. I pushed my cock as far as it would go into her throat, held it for a second, then withdrew, gave her a moment to recover, before assaulting her throat again. I lunged at her mouth, holding her head still, fucking her mouth with full force, she gurgled and coughed, but kept her mouth open wide.           

    I gave her some mercy, pulling out for a minute or two and then resumed my attack.

Finally I withdrew, leaving her a breathless mess of drool and slobber. As I returned my cock to my trousers, as I circled behind her.

“Slave. What position are you supposed to be in?

Caught off guard, she paused for a moment trying to remember which number applied.

“It’s number four isn’t it?”

“Yes Sir”, she stammered.

“So why is your ass sitting on your ankles, you lazy little slut?”

With all my hammering, she had slumped down to rest her backside on her feet, and this was a bad habit that she had. Position four, as she well knew was on her knees, perfectly upright. She needed to be corrected, it was an opportunity to raise the intensity, push some limits.

“So why is your ass sitting on your ankles?”

Swiftly she moved to correct her posture, but she knew it was too late. I snatched her pony tail once again, holding her upright and bent over and gave her ass some sharp slaps.

“You must maintain the correct position, understand?”

“Yes, Sir” came the whimpered response.

I slapped her backside again, “and you will be punished. You will be retrained in the correct position with a plug in your ass until you learn to hold it correctly”

“Yes, Sir” she sobbed. It wasn’t because of the spanking that she was tearful, it was because she had displeased me. I released her ponytail, and scooped the slopping droop up with my fingers from her breasts

“. . . and the only lubrication you will be allowed will be that which you produce with your own body. . . . Position two!” I snapped

She immediately put her head on the floor, being very careful to assume the correct position. I collected a medium sized plug from the tray, and after giving her a couple of sharp swats on her ass, roughly fingered her ass, transferring her own saliva into her ass. I realised that this was not going to be enough lube, of course, and I began roughly hammering her pussy with my other hand, finger fucking her brutally. As I suspected, she was already quite wet from having her mouth violated and my hammering her pussy produced a fresh flood of juices. Presently I replaced my fingers with the butt plug, vigorously pumping in it and out of her.

Although she was whimpering and sniffling, I could tell she was enjoying the punishment, as, firstly her cunt was gushing, and she has widening her knees and pushing back on the plug as it invaded her. Presently I decided the plug was thoroughly lubricated.

“Open!”

Obediently, she reached back and spread her ass cheeks. I took pleasure in forcing her to offer her ass to me for sodomisation by the plug. She tensed, knowing what was about to happen.

“Behave” I snarled, and placed the tip of the plug against the puckered entrance, and gradually began to nudge the tight opening.

I breathed “You know you deserve this’, I pressed a little firmer, and the resistance gave way, I withdrew the plug slightly, then pushed again, this time forcing it a little further, and again relaxed the tension, then forced it a little further. I could have simply brutally shoved it in but I had my technique. Anal play should be pleasurable, even as a form of punishment. It was the humiliation that I wanted, the degradation of her face down on the floor, ass high in the air, holding herself open as I slowly impaled her with the soft rubber plug. I did not want her associating anal penetration with pain. I stole a hand under her, and gently fingered her clitoris, noticing that her pussy continued to flood with wetness. I began circling the tiny bud of the clit as the plug ventured, deeper and deeper, withdrawing it further, before reinserting it, until as last the widest point stretched her hole open. I stepped up the rhythm of my fingering of her clit, and gave the plug a final thrust, and she gave a little squeal as her anus contracted around the narrow section of the base.

“Good Girl” I said as I transferred my hand to probing her pussy. She relaxed, getting used to her ass being thoroughly filled, and I continued to play with her clit.

“Number four”

She gingerly pushed herself off the floor, and this time assumed the correct position with her back perfectly straight. I noted with satisfaction that her mascara with completely destroyed by her tears, and ran down her cheeks in streaks. Her lipstick was smeared aver her face as a result of her oral training. She was a mess, but a gorgeous defiled, degraded, violated mess.

I clipped the cuffs on her wrists together, and taking a short length of rope, looped it around her waist, drew the two free ends down her backside, over the round base of the plug, wedging it firmly in her ass, and drew it between her thighs, drawing it up through her vulva.

“Heel”

Typically this command involved her on all fours to be lead like a dog, but this was impossible with her wrists secured behind her, so she was forced to shuffle forward on her knees across the soft carpet. I drew her forward, pulling on the rope that rose from her vulva, down the hallway to a ring that I had installed in the wall at about waist height.

“Face the wall” I commanded, and when she was in position tied the rope to the ring, pulling it sharply upward. I went to the living room and returned with two flat cushions, and sensing what I had in mind, she gratefully lifted one knee, then the other, allowing me to place them one under each knee. I wanted her to be punished, but I did not want to cause her unpleasant discomfort. I re-secured the two ropes to the ring, making sure that there was a firm tension, making it impossible for her to slacken her position, forcing her to kneel perfectly upright. I carefully aligned the ropes, so that they ran inside her outer lips, but ensured her inner lips and clitoris were snuggly trapped between them. I then placed a head harness on her, snapping my fingers to order her open her mouth. I chose bar gag which would prevent speech, but that would not force her jaw open too wide, and the harness also included a fur lined eye mask.

“You will remain in position four until you learn to assume it correctly.”

         Then I waited.  I removed my clothes, sat on the couch, flicking through a magazine, all the while keeping her in view. Her sniffling subsided, and presently she was quiet. The afternoon sun had dimmed, and I turned on a lamp. I sense that she could hear my movements, the click of the lamp switch, and the gentle flick of the magazine pages.

I waited, watching.

. . . Then at last I saw what I thought might happen.

She was slowly moving her hips back and forth with almost imperceptible movements. She was gently tightening and releasing the pressure of the rope that held her to the wall by her cunt.

I allowed her to pleasure herself for some minutes, then at last, silently crept up the hall, and touched her cheek. She jumped with surprise at my touch, the relaxed. I carefully removed the head harness, and detached the rope from the ring mounted on the wall. I tested it. As I suspected, it was sopping wet.

I returned to the living room. She obediently waited, staring at the wall, the plug remaining in her ass with her hand still secured behind her, as I had not yet given her a command to move.

I stood in the center of the room. The light had gone completely by now and the room was lit with the soft glow of the lamps I had switched on.

“Present yourself”

I gave the command sharply and clearly. Gingerly she rose, carefully putting on foot flat on the floor and pushing herself up into a standing position, as she had been trained to do. She walked quietly toward me and knelt in the number four position, her back perfectly straight.

“Have you learnt your lesson?”

“Yes, Sir” came the quiet reply “I’m sorry for disappointing you sir”

‘You are forgiven, but in future, if you fail to assume a position correctly, you will be restrained in that position as punishment’

“Yes, Sir. I understand Sir” 

She looked fabulous. Her tear streaked face was a total mess. I considered sending her to the bathroom to clean up, but I decided to have her as she was.

“Good Girl” I snapped my fingers twice, and within seconds she had my cock in her mouth, lovingly sucking it. I let her get me to full erection. She knew what was about to happen. Punishment was usually followed by mind blowing “make up” sex.

I clapped my hands once, and she assumed position one by simply sitting down on her heels, then rolling back onto her back, her wrists still attached behind her and she held her legs wide open. I knelt in front of her and plunged my cock into her in a single powerful thrust. With both her holes filled, my cock in one, the plug in the other, not to mention the fact that this was the first time I had fucked her after a very erotic afternoon, she very quickly reached a climax, desperate, her cunt forcefully gripping my cock as it spasmed. I could tell that it was a very strong climax.

I withdrew and clapped twice, and she instantly rolled over, and I took her from behind. Looking down at her I could see the plug that remained impaled in her ass, and her hands bound with the leather cuffs, her hands clenching as I held her hips firmly and I lunged into her, and felt the climax build, from the base of my balls, deep inside me, I could feel a great surge of come, build, build and finally explode jetting into her willing body, has I held her hips still, and slammed my cock into her, just as I felt the sudden tremors of her climax ripple through her. I continued to pump, and she tensed, and her whole body shook and waves of pleasure flooded through her. I slowed my pace as the last waves of our coinciding orgasm crashed upon the shore. I unclipped her wrists, and collapsed onto the couch, she took a cloth, quickly wiped herself, and positioned herself for her post-coital duty of cleaning me. She began licking the shaft of my cock, popping the head into her mouth to swallow the last of my come. Having cleaned my cock, she turned to my balls, cupping them in her hand and giving them several long licks, before eventually using the cloth. Curling up in front of my cock, she rested her head on my thigh, facing my dick, taking it in her hands, turning it over, cooing at it and giving it occasional kisses and licks.

“I love your cock, Sir. It’s so . . . maganda, nakatutuwa, guwapo . . . gorgeous”

It was almost like she was addressing my cock as an independent entity.

“I love it when you shove it into me hard . . . when you force it down my throat . . . soon I want to feel it in my ass, I want it inside me in every way. It gives me so much pleasure”

She cooed and clucked, tickling my balls, kissing and licking, squeezing it hard in her fist. I had to show her that squeezing hard didn’t hurt at all. My penis wasn’t exactly erect, but it was fat and pulsing, as if it were reacting to her touches and compliments. Eventually I drew her to me and nestled her beside me.

It was “downtime”, that period when we relaxed into a semi-informal mode. It was impossible to maintain the tension of a “Formal” Dominant and submissive all the time, as it would become exhausting.

After a suitable time resting on the couch, I ordered my submissive to pick up the various items, toys and articles of clothing that were strewn about the living room. One of her responsibilities was to tidy up after our engagements and put the toys in their appropriate places. I then ordered her into her bathroom to shower and clean up, using her name, or an affectation like ”Sweetie”, or “Darling” informed her that we had shifted to “Down time” rather than ”whore”, ”Slave”, or ”Slut”, which I used during play. By using a more familiar term, such as her name, this indicated to her that we were now in a more relaxed mode. Her makeup had become a smeared mess, and she needed to reapply it, freshen up and attend to her hygiene. While she was in the shower, I selected some items for her to wear. The high heeled shoes, a black bustier, stockings, and a long floor length transparent lace gown, which left little to the imagination. She never wore knickers to keep her openings available to me at all times. I left the items laid out on the bed, with her decorative collar. Up till this point I had her “play” collar on her, a heavy functional item, with rows of D-rings and studs. Her decorative collar was much lighter, more comfortable, and although strong enough for normal play, included a lot more lace and hanging strings of beads. She was particularly fond of this one. She would also exchange her play cuffs for a set of smaller cuffs which resembled straps and were more like anklets or bracelets rather than the heavy cuffs we used for play. While these were a lot lighter, they were still able to be used to restrain her if I wished. They were a lot more ornamental and pretty, and were embellished with lacework, hanging loops of chains, onto which I had attached Slave Bells. These were a series of small, round bells which produced a light jingling with every movement, which was pleasant to the ear, and also a constant reminder of her submission. The tradition is as old as time, and the bells announce the presence telling Master where she was in the house at all times. She would fasten these over her stockings. 

Which she was in the bathroom, preparing herself, I placed a few items in the bedroom, adjusted the lighting to fill the room with a soft, warm glow, drew the curtains, tidied few items on the dresser and then returned to the living room, and performed the same tasks, altering the lighting, drawing the curtains. Although she was a submissive, I did not consider my slave as a servant, and a lot of daily tasks I performed myself. After all it was my home and I knew how I wanted it arranged, however, certain tasks were performed by my submissive, for its symbolic value more than anything else. I have a maid who is perfectly able to look after my home, and I consider using submissives as a source of free housework as a form of abuse and exploitation.

I took to the shower myself, and returned to the living room wearing a long white cotton robe, and reclined on the couch, and began to browse through a restaurant delivery site for dinner. Presently, she returned, looking utterly radiant. She had let her hair down, and reapplied her makeup, this time in a much more decorative style, with a series of elaborate curls at the tips. She had chosen a much darker shade of red as her lipstick. The lingerie I had chosen looked divine on her. The robe swept behind her, completely open, while her nipples peeked over the edge of the bustier, and her naked pussy was perfectly framed by the stockings. Aware of my eyes on her, she strolled into the room, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, as she had been trained to do. She knelt before me in position four, with her hands behind her, tucking the gown behind her to maintain a full view of her body. She kept her eyes lowered.

“Sir, your slave is ready to serve you”

Beautiful. She was learning the language and protocols. I would keep to the style.

“Is my little slave hungry?”

“Yes, sir”

“And what would she like to eat? . . . Choose”, handing her the menu. She flicked through the pages, politely requesting some food items. We settled on chicken salads and garlic bread, seamlessly shifting from the formal, third person D/s language to that of an ordinary vanilla couple ordering dinner. I ordered dinner.

“Coffee, please”

“Yes, Sir”

The serving of drinks, coffee, tea or wine was always done in a formal manner. My submissive would place the cup or glass on a tray, kneel before me and announce that the drink had been prepared. The punishment for failing in this was to serving for some time with one side of the tray secured to her waist via a light chain, and the other side attached to her nipples with a pair of cruel clamps. After serving as a table as a table in this manner for a while, feeling her teats pulled mercilessly every time I replace ta glass of wine on the tray, a slave rarely forgets the correct way of serving drinks to her master. 

She left the room, again walking in the same style of a catwalk model, one foot directly in front of the other, which, in the heels, had the effect of making her ass sway from side to side in a very pleasing way. I was pleased to see that she was remembering to walk correctly. If she failed in this respect, I would have her walk up and down the hallway with a strap placed around her thighs, wearing her high posture collar to keep her head poised, while I would swat her ass with the riding crop if she failed to walk correctly.

As I watched her leave the room, I decided to conduct an exercise, prompted by a desire to reinforce train her attitude, but also prompted by the sight of her curvaceous rear as is swayed delightfully beneath the black lace gown. . As I heard the familiar sound of the kettle being filled and the clink of metal spoon on cup, I masturbated myself to full erection, and applied a healthy dollop of lubricant on the tip and down the shaft. I flung off the robe and strode purposefully into the kitchen. My kitchen is small and functional, with none of the decoration that is found throughout the rest of the apartment, but nonetheless it has been the site of some interesting encounters between us. As I entered the room, my slave looked at me for a moment and there was a faint smile.

“Over the counter” I said pointing.

She stepped to the spot I indicated, bent over the counter, hitched up the gown, and, unbidden, placed her hands on either side of her ass, and performed the “open” stance, pulling her cheeks open, and reaching further to place her fingers on either side of her vulva, opening her pussy wide.

This was something that pleased me greatly. She had anticipated what I was planning to do and performed the posture without being ordered to do so. The willingness of a slave to posture herself to make herself available, to reveal herself for her Masters gaze, holding up her breasts for Him to apply nipple clamps, lifting her ass up for a spanking, was the creative and intelligent side of submission, which oh so effectively endeared the sub to her Master’s heart.

“Good Girl”, I said, as I drove my cock into her open pussy, and, although she was not wet and ready, the lube enabled me to enter her to the hilt in one single movement. I immediately began to rhymicaly pump her. Her slave bells jingled pleasingly with the movement.

“Unopen”

She responded to the command, placing her hands in front of her on the counter. I knew it would be more comfortable for her as I increased the vigour of my fucking, and also I wanted to grip her hips, holding her still. I pushed the gown up, admiring the erotic effect of the layers of black lace which framed her ass which was cleaved by my cock as I thrust it in and out of her now thoroughly wet pussy.

Presently I heard the kettle reach boiling point, and I was using it as a timer. I did not want to come in her so quickly, as I wished to save that for later in the night. I gently withdrew, gave her backside and appreciative pat and left the room. She remained bent over the counter, as I had not given her an order to move.

Although I had said a couple of words to her throughout the incident, the message was clear:

“You give your body to me absolutely, and offer me all your openings for my exclusive use, pleasure and enjoyment, whenever, where ever and in whatever manner I wish, and that you will make your openings available to me at all times for my pleasure and satisfaction.”   - The Vows of Obedience

On occasion, in the middle of the night, I would awaken her by fingering her, lightly at first, then with more strength until she was wet the push her into position and ram my cock into her, and she delighted in these sudden nocturnal engagements, often climaxing, before, wordlessly, we would return to sleep.

I returned to the living room, switching on the news, catching the headlines while she prepared the coffee. As I watched the daily list of atrocities, murders and celebrity scandals, it struck me that our strange little life was so calm, secure, structured and orderly compared to the lives of others. Perhaps that is one of the functions of a BDSM relationship is to provide a structure and order to people’s lives. I had known several submissives for whom a stern, disciplined lifestyle actually helped them, as they simply needed the control and regulation. She was not one of these. She needed to serve, to attend, and to please both in practical terms and also sexually.

Which she did so with perfect etiquette and demeanour. She entered the room, her slave bells tinkling, holding the tray with coffee for both of us high in front of her. She had been taught to hold the tray in such a way that the item on the tray would be directly in front of her breasts, creating a delightful image. She carefully kneeled in front of me, and spoke in an even tone.

“Your coffee is prepared, Sir”

“Good slave’

She placed the cups on the table, neatly slipped the tray out of the way, and I patted the couch beside me and with a little excited jingle of bells, she was beside me, her head buried in my shoulder. I watched the rest of the news, while she snuggled beside me. I stroked her hair, gently, which I knew she liked, occasionally pausing to gently pinch a nipple which was exposed over the busier, with one hand, the other arm around her. She cuddled up to me, almost purring with pleasure.

The doorbell rang and she immediately sprang to her feet and quickly slipped out of the room. There was no graceful stroll this time. She wanted to be clear before the delivery guy saw anything. I opened the door, paid the bill and brought the packages to the table.

“Dinner!”

Se re-entered the room and helped me unpack the meal, arranging it on plates, and we settled down to eat, enjoyed our meal, passed conversation, then she cleared the table. I watched appreciatively as she bent over the collect the dishes, putting them on the tray, returning to them to the kitchen. We watched an episode of a light British comedy. We had given up on movies, as halfway through them we could not resist the urge to play, and we ended up with a back catalogue of half watched movies. We snuggled and kissed, stroking each other, laughing together. Despite the fact that we were in a D/s relationship, we shared a great deal of intimacy, and we liked cuddling on the couch, our comfort space. She loved having her head on my shoulder, and this is often how she fell asleep.

Once the comedy finished, I put on some porn, a typical kink production. It began with a submissive being throat fucked by two Doms. She cuddled up to me as she watched, and we commented on the practicalities of the activities on the screen. The images switched to a scene where the actress was bent over backwards, one Dom thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth, while the other whipped her tits, pussy and thighs. I curled my arm under her, and kissed her deeply, while I casually open her thighs and cupped her pussy, rubbing the surface with my palm, pressing down on the clitoral area.

“Can I suck your cock?” She asked.

“Now, how should you say that?

“. . . um . . . Sir, may your slave suck your cock?”

‘. . . or “Your dirty little slut begs to serve her Master with her mouth.” I suggested.

“Sir, Your dirty little slut begs to serve you with her mouth” she responded, altering my words slightly.

The use of honorifics was something that needed to be negotiated. It was agreed that she would refer to me as “Master”, when she truly felt that I held that role in her life. In the meantime she would use “Sir”, and it still irked me that I had still not completely filled the role. However, I could not stand dominants who insisted on being called “Master”, especially by people they did not know, or, even worse, other Dom’s submissives. As far as I was concerned the word “Master” implied a very devoted and intense relationship. “Sir” was a good substitute in the meantime.

All in good time.

She moved across, and I held her neck, as she lay her head on my stomach, easily sliding my cock into her mouth. She was perfectly comfortable, sucking my cock with relish, using her free hand to gently run her fingers up and down the shaft. She was also able to watch the images on the screen, and it thrilled me that the obscene displays of torture and brutal sex were as much a turn on for her as me. I enjoyed the weight of her head on my stomach, and I reached down and pulled up the gown. She shifted herself toward me, bringing her ass and ass and pussy within reach. I dipped my finger into her, waited for a moment, dipped again, and gradually increased the tempo. She continued pleasuring me, delicately flicking her tongue over the head. I changed the video, this time to a Russian submissive being whipped by several men dressed as monks. She continued to suck and lick me, and as the cruel blows fell on the hapless submissive ass onscreen, I felt a sudden wetness. There was no doubt that the extreme images she was seeing were exciting her. I realised that while she did not necessarily want me to punish her to the same extent, the idea of being bound and punished with floggers, paddles and canes were a big turn on for her. She shifted position, now on all fours, taking the length of my cock in her mouth, offering me her open pussy which I began to pound, a second finger joining the first.

Presently she lifted her head.

“Sir?”

“Yes”

“Your little whore asks to be punished and fucked” she said in a solemn, serious voice.

“. . . and so you will be, but I will be pushing your limits . . . Do you understand?”

There was a twinkle in her eye, and I realised she was in the mood to discover new ground.

“Take off your robe”

She rose from the bed, and slipped the thin garment from her shoulders, carefully folding and placing it on the table.

“. . . and the rest, but leave the stockings”

She removed the bustier, taking the opportunity to place one high heeled foot after the other on the table as she detached the suspenders that kept the stockings up, and replaced her bells with the play cuffs. She was beginning to think about what things looked like from my perspective, and that the sight of her milky smooth thigh would work well as she placed a leg on the table. Lovely.

I took her mouth, roughly, sliding my cock smoothly in and out, making her slobber run down her chin, I pulled her head onto my section, gripping the sides firmly. After some minutes, I pointed at the table.

“Number Two”. She took the position to perfection, her ass raised high with her head and shoulders on the soft sheepskin cover. I slid a soft tube shaped cushion under her shoulders as I intended to put her in a rather demanding position. Itook a spreader bay and locked it into position, through the instep of each shoe, either end clipped to her ankles.

“Give me your wrists” I ordered. She knew the position I had in mind and passed her hands under her to the center of the bar, and I clipped them to the ring. I stepped back. There is something utterly beguiling about this position, and both her holes were perfectly presented. I gave her some sharp slaps across her ass, which made the cheek lift.

It was time to shift the atmosphere a shade darker. I quietly lubricated the middle finger of my right hand.

“What are you?”

SMACK!

“A filthy little whore, sir”

WHACK!

“And to whom do you belong”

SMACK!

“You, Sir . . . completely”

WHAP

“And who does this belong to?”, as I rammed two fingers into her cunt

“You, Sir”

“ . . . . And this?”

I slid the thoroughly lubricated finger up to the knuckle deep into her tantalising, inviting ass. She gave a squeal of surprise and then recomposed herself

“You . . . Sir”

“And you want to be trained to serve you Master with this hole?”

“Yeas Sir. Your little slut want all her holes open and available for your use”

“Very good. Your rear hole will be trained to take your Masters cock.”

“Yes, Sir”

I took a plug, somewhat larger, and pushed it into her ass. I was not as gentle this time, but I took some time to push it into place. She had learnt to relax her ass completely, and sighed, as the soft rubber plug finally popped into her ass. Again I waited for her to get used to the sensation, then I took a vibrator and switching it on, brought it against her clitoris, gently brushing it over the hood, before settling it. I put a finger into her pussy and marvelled at how tight it had become because of the large phallus which invaded her pussy.

“Now you are going to perform for your Master’s amusement”

“Yes, Sir” . . . came a halting response. She wasn’t sure what I had in mind, but I was sure she was guessing. I detached the spreader bar and helped her climb off the table by grasping her hips.

“Sit” I said pointing at the floor by the table. Still getting used to the large plug in her ass, she gingerly took the position, sitting on her heels, with her palms facing upwards on her thighs. This was the “At ease” position, which she assumed while I was readying equipment.

I swept the sheepskin cover from the table, and placed a large dildo in its center, with two flat cushions on either side, and trailed the wire from its remote control to the edge of the table.

“You know what to do, slut!” I pointed at the rubber cock which sat upright on the large wooden coffee table. There was only one position in which she could possibly get it inside her and that was squatting over it. She crawled to the table, and clambered up onto it. I handed her a bottle of lube.

“You might appreciate this”, I said as she lubed up the giant cock. Gripping the head of the rubber cock between her fingers, she lowered herself onto it and I watch carefully as it gradually parted the delicate inner lips, and her pussy began to stretch open to accommodate the huge phallus. She slowly slid down on it, impaling herself for my amusement, the butt plug making her cunt even tighter.

She groaned with pleasure as she finally found the bottom.

“Back up again” I said, and gave one cheek of her ass a single swat with a small, stingy flogger. Obediently she rose again, slowly sliding the pole out of her until it protruded from her, then, unbidden, sank back down and I watched with pleasure and satisfaction as it disappeared inside her again.

“That’s it, slut. Fuck that cock”, swatting the other cheek of her ass with the flogger

I then introduced two elements into her performance. I switched on some music, slow, throbbing, dark gothic techno music which filled the room, and I then turned on the vibrator inside the dildo. It is very powerful, and the vibrations ran through the table. She paused for a moment out of surprise at the sudden sensation.

“Faster, slut . . .  in time to the music.’

She increased her pace, sliding up and down on the pulsating cock, and her breathing became steadier. I laid back down on the couch and enjoyed the sheer spectacle of the situation. Her firm smooth body rose and fell on the cock, lit beautifully in the lamplight, her perfect ass sliding up and down on the cock which disappeared and reappeared in and out of her smoothly.

Presently I circled the table, observed her heavy tits swaying delightfully as she slid back and forth. I then stood on the table in front of her and she immediately opened her mouth, and took my cock. I did not ram my cock in this time, rather stood perfectly still and allowed her movements to dictate the penetration. As she slid down onto the dildo, she would move away from my cock, and as she rose off the dildo, my dick would penetrate her throat, nearly to the hilt, and in time to the throbbing music she simultaneously fucked the dildo on the table and pumped my cock in and out of her mouth. I could feel her arousal rise, her breathing became heavier, and I knew she would climax yet again. She increased the pace, losing the rhythm of the music, but she moved with an urgency, and I knew she was getting close to orgasm.

I suddenly grabbed her head with both hands, pushed her down onto the violently vibrating dildo, and thrust my cock in and out of her face. A waterfall of saliva and drool spilled down over her breasts. It pushed her over the edge, suddenly coming, bucking her hips on the cock, while I held my cock firmly down her throat, quickly releasing her, as soon as the quivering subsided.

I drew her limb body off the cock and allowed her to sink, exhausted, onto the couch.

She snuggled beside me “purring’. It was the only word that described the languid, contented, satisfied, sleepy composure she assumed when she climaxed. From time to time she sizzled, kissed and licked my cock. Meanwhile I stroked her ass, or squeezed a breast, whichever came into reach. I felt the round base of the plug in her ass, and it occurred to me that she was perfectly comfortable with it in her, and it had been buried in her ass for over an hour, throughout our play. I did not have a specific schedule for her training in this regard, rather that I had introduced anal play into our activities, and had gradually increased the intensity of the stimulation. I made her associate anal stimulation with pleasure, coinciding increased anal stimulation with orgasm. Anal training takes place in two forms. The first is the training of attitude. Subconsciously I was preparing her to serve me with her ass, and I was setting up an association between anal play and pleasure. I was deliberately removing the old associations that she might have that that part of the body is “dirty” and should be kept private. As she rolled over, shamelessly offering me her ass to stroke, with the large round base of the plug parting her cheeks, I assumed that I had accomplished this goal. The second form was physical. The final episode in anal training was the deflowering of her ass, which I consummated as part of a small ritual. I included various rituals and ceremonies in the progress of the D/s relationship, the initial ceremony where she had taken her Vows of Obedience, and there would be this ceremony, the Offering of her Ass.

The tight round ring of flesh needed to be gradually stretched and she needed to get used to large objects penetrating her in that sensitive orifice. I had used a series of plugs, gradually larger and larger, leaving them in her for increasing lengths of time. Very slowly, her ass was able to comfortably accommodate larger and larger plugs and she seemed perfectly relaxed and comfortable with the largest plug in place. It was my intention to make her doubly open to me, to give us both a whole new ground in which to play, new sensations for her, and greater pleasure for myself having all three holes available for my pleasure.

Presently she looked at me, with her perfectly made up eyes. I do like heavy makeup, and appreciated the fact that she went to a lot of trouble to keep her makeup in order, touching up from time to time. 

“Would you like coffee, Sir?”

Her attentiveness to my needs was charming. It was one of the most alluring and attractive aspects of her, and she was completely focussed on my needs, pleasure and satisfaction. She always asked me if I wanted coffee, a drink, if I wanted her to pleasure me with her mouth, and she was always a little disappointed if we had some sexual encounter, during which I did not come, and she always seemed anxious to do whatever was needed to bring me to orgasm. She was well aware that the “reverse cowgirl’ position was a particular favourite of mine and when I was tired or sexually exhausted, that particular position was often able to produce one last orgasm of the evening.

“Yes, please”

She turned and left the room. As always I watched her ass bob pleasingly as she walked, the black circle of the plug was clearly visible. I lay back and considered whether it was too early to penetrate her anally. She knew that this was part of her training and that ultimately, I wanted to have all of her available to me. When she took her vows of Obedience, all those months ago, she had undertaken to offer me use of all her holes. Some so-called Doms would have simply assumed that meant anything goes, tied them up and brutally anally raped the hapless submissive, who would then associate anal sex with pain, cruelty, and being hurt and were very unlikely to experience any pleasure from the practice. My approach was to gradually introduce it as part of play, gently stretching the orifice until it could comfortably accept my cock, and have the submissive take great pleasure from being sodomised. It could then be introduced in more rough play in which she would be tied up and brutally sodomised, but I would know that it would be something that she would enjoy. That she was so dedicated to serving me and my pleasure, and she seemed physically ready for the experience.

It would be tonight.

. . . However, I would have to prepare her for the ceremony by ensuring she was thoroughly cleaned.

She re-entered the room and knelt before me, her back perfectly straight, holding the tray at the perfect height framing the coffee cups with her breasts.

“Good Girl . . . put the tray on the table, and resume the position you are in.”

She paused for a moment. Quite often at coffee time, I would have her serve the coffee in the correct manner, and then we would usually “nestle” or cuddle while we waited for the coffee to cool. She placed the tray neatly on the table and then resumed position four.

“You give your body to me absolutely, and offer me all your openings for my exclusive use, pleasure and enjoyment,” I said steadily.

“Yes Sir”

“Do you remember those words?”

“Yes, Sir, they are from my Vows of Obedience to you Sir”

“I have trained your mouth, and obviously you delight in serving me with your cunt, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir” . . . she paused, choosing her words “Your little whore loves you fucking her, Sir”. There was genuine enthusiasm in her tone, and she guessed in which direction the conversation was going, and before I could continue she said . . . .

“. . . but I have not pleasured you with my ass, Sir”

“Do you wish to?”

“Yes, Sir . . . I want you to use my whole body for your pleasure and satisfaction.” . . . she paused . . .”I want you to tie me down and fuck my little asshole deep and hard like the filthy little slut that I am”

I was overjoyed to hear her words. She was certainly happy to progress our play, and it thrilled me that she was learning to use such erotic lewd and lascivious language. It certainly had the desired effect.

“You will offer me your ass in a ceremony which will be conducted later this evening. In the meantime you will be prepared and cleaned.”

“Yes, Sir’ she said with a ripple of pleasure.

“You will be given an enema”

. . . .a slight pause, then, “yes, Sir”

We had not ventured into enemas at this point, however it was one aspect of play which I wanted to explore, as it was a very appropriate practice for a number of reasons. Firstly it was a fairly necessary practice if one is going to engage in anal sex, as it kept things clean and fun. Nasty, messy surprises could ruin the evening, not to mention the sheets. Quite a lot of submissives quite enjoy being given enemas not just because the felt very nice, but also because they did wonders for their skin and general health. All through history, women have used enema to lose weight, to purify and detoxify their systems and also to treat acne and skin conditions. Like every new experience, she would be gently lead through it. The only issue was that one of her hard limits was that of extreme humiliation. Expelling an enema in the presence of another person might be far too humiliating, so I had decided that she could complete this in private.

“Nestle”, I said patting the couch beside me. When she was settled next to me, I kissed her deeply, and lightly fingering her pussy, I said, “This is the next step in your training”

“I understand. I want you to have that pleasure from me. I know that my purpose is your pleasure and satisfaction, and I really want to please you, Sir”

“It truly touches me to hear that. You are such a sweet obedient slave. I am so lucky to have yo u” I said, and this was not just idle pillow talk. An obedient slave that truly cared for her Master was a precious gem that had to be cherished. Submission was truly a gift and it should be treasured.

“And I want to feel you cock inside my ass, and feel totally used”

“But it might be difficult for you. I will give you your first enema, and I can’t guarantee it won’t hurt”

“I know Sir. I want to go through it for you’

I kissed her again, long and deep. Her willingness to suffer for me was such a prise, for which I adored and appreciated. I told her that I would allow her to expel the enemas in private, to which she warmed.

“Thank you, Sir . . .  I appreciate that”

We finished our coffee.

“Go to my bathroom on all fours”

She slipped off the couch, without standing, and crawled slowly to the bathroom.

When she was given the instruction to crawl, or “Heel”, she did not go into a standing position first, but remained on her knees. If she was in a kneeling position and was ordered to the table for fucking, inspection or punishment, she would crawl, rather than stand. If she was on the couch, and told to move somewhere else in the room, it would be on all fours. The only time she walked was when she needed to carry the tray, or if we were in “Downtime mode’ and she was fetching something from the kitchen.

She waited patiently by the door, like a dog waiting to be let in the door.

I followed, collecting some cushions from the couch. I opened the door, turned on the light.

“Stay”, I said, indicating that I needed her to wait. This command was often given when she was restrained and blindfolded and meant “I am going to get something, but I will be only gone for a minute’. In this case at meant exactly that. She sat on her haunches, at the door, looking impossibly cute. The little trace of fear simply added to her beauty.

I arranged a collection of towels and cushions on the hard tile floor so she would be comfortable. “Come”, I said and she crawled into the small bathroom, and I closed the door. For some reason I wanted the door closed as it was more intimate. “Number Two”, and she obediently assumed the correct position, her ass high in the air with her face nestled in a cushion. I could have restrained her into position, but I did not want her to feel like she was being forced. I could give her forced enemas later, as a form of mock punishment, but she needed to be familiar with the sensation. Her ass was nicely exposed, pointing nearly upwards.

“The plug will be removed. Breathe in”

I heard her drew a breath, and I drew the sizable plug out of her in a single movement. She breathed out heavily, but did not move. Satisfied that she was comfortable, I then explored her ass with one finger, circling it around her ass, massaging her sphincter. She seemed to enjoy that, so I pumped my finger in and out of her. I tenderly had a second finger join the first, and although she whimpered a little, there was no doubt that the plug had done its work. Her ass was a lot more flexible and accommodating. I was certain she was ready for my cock.

“Now for your enema. You will be given a small one to start with, which you can expel immediately”

Yes, Sir”

‘Good girl”

I had warmed the water earlier and just used plain water, nothing else. Some people swore by coffee enemas or milk, however I wanted her to start with something she would not react to. I filled the container, ran the water through the hose to remove bubbled, placed the lubricated tip, in her ass, and without hesitating, turned the valve.

A couple of seconds later I heard and audible sigh

“Ooooooooh!” . . .as she felt the warm water flood into her bowel, that lovely warm, liquid, melty, gooey feeling. She suddenly relaxed, realising that her fears were unfounded. I watched with pleasure as the container steadily began to empty, and I laid down on the floor beside her and brushed her hair, and kissed her.

“How does that feel?”

“Oh, Sir, it is  . . . . Lovely”

I waited till the container was empty, and kissed her again.

“I am going into the bedroom and I will close the door so I won’t hear anything. Take your time, expel the enema in the toilet, clean up after yourself, and take a shower. I will be waiting in the bedroom.” I said as I removed the tube.

She took a while to attend to herself and I sat in my armchair reading a novel. In due course she opened the bedroom door.

“All done? Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir” she knelt before me, looking radiant, There was a certain relief on her face and an enjoyment at having found a new pleasure. The business of expelling the enema was a necessary evil, but worth it. I was still bemused as she still used the word “Sir’. Perhaps it was simply easier to say. “Sir“:  it rolls off the tongue with ease, whereas “Master” is two syllables. Maybe that was it.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Slave?”

“Sir, your unclean whore requests another enema, and this time . . . “

She halted, aware that she was dangerously close to making a demand rather than a request. In the past, she had been soundly flogged, bent over a chair and left with painful binder clips on her teats for half an hour for making the mistake of “Topping from the bottom”

“Yes,” I replied, threateningly, a hint of warning in my voice”

“This little slave respectfully requests to be restrained while her ass is cleaned with an enema for your pleasure”

I realised that she had chosen her words with care, and assented to her request. She realised she was in the wrong and had saved herself a painful punishment by changing her tone. She was experimenting, wanting to find out what a “hard” enema felt like.

Back in the bathroom, I ordered her into the number two position, then took a spreader bar, and attached it to her ankles, and clipped a chain to the ring at the front of her collar, pulling her head closer to her knees. I had removed the cushions, but left folded towels under her head and knees. Filling the container with a full litre of water. I squirted a liberal dollop of oil and smoothed it over her backside, and I commanded her too “Open” and she quickly spread her ass cheeks open delightfully and I applied the nozzle to her ass, tucking the slim tube deep into her. I smiled as I detected a slight anticipation. I opened the valve and again, I watched as she relaxed. I told her to Unopen, and massaged her oily cheeks as her belly slowly filled with warm fluid. I started rubbing my palm over her open pussy, pausing to open her cunt, stretching her labia with my thumbs, then fingering her cunt. There was no question that she thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of the warm fluid flowing into her bowel, filling her up, as I fingered her slippery wet cunt. I then took a vibrator and brought it against her clitoris, buzzing the sensitive little organ. She jumped with surprise, then relaxed. .

“Oh God Sir . . . that is wonderful. Thank you Sir”

I kept stimulating her clit running the vibrator up and down her pussy, all the while, I fingered her cunt, and as I suspected,

“Sir, may I come?” just as her body was suddenly gripped by powerful shaking, and she wriggled in her restraints, clutching the towel under her face. Realising that the container was empty, I withdrew the tube, and swiftly replaced to with a medium sized plug, preventing any fluid from escaping. Finally, I slid my cock into her pussy, which was now pleasingly tight. The pressure of the enema had the effect of pushing down on the vaginal wall, squeezing it tighter, and we could both feel the difference, as she sighed and groaned as I steadily pumped in and out of her. Being fucked with an enema in is a legendarily wonderful experience, or so I am told, substantiated by the fact that a few minutes later, her body was again wracked with the spasms of orgasm. I loved the way she came. There was absolutely no way you could miss it. Her whole body tightened and she squealed loudly and I could almost feel the pleasure she experienced. It was very satisfying making her come.

I withdrew, avoiding an orgasm myself. I was saving that for the ceremony.

“Good Girl. Take your time as that is a big enema and it will take several efforts to expel it all. I will be waiting in the bedroom.” By now it was a routine. She knew she had to expel the enema, shower and present herself to me.

While she was attending to herself, I organised the bedroom. I turned down the light, and lit a series of candles around the room. I put on some music, dark, gothic classical music which had an atmosphere of mystery, shadows. Perfect for a ritual or ceremony. I dropped the canopy of our bed and attached the chains and ropes with which I would restrain her.

She eventually returned, kneeling respectfully in the center of the room. She had showered, replied her makeup, and put her hair into ponytail ready for play. I watched as she noticed the candled and the warm light which filled the room. Silently I handed her a piece paper and stood before her as she read:

“I give my body to you absolutely, and offer you all my openings for my exclusive use, pleasure and enjoyment, whenever, where ever and in whatever manner you wish, and that I will make myself available to you at all times for your pleasure and satisfaction.

She concluded reading and handed back the paper.

“Are you prepared to offer your ass to your Master?”

“Yes, Sir”, came the clear and determined affirmative, and I saw a little sparkle in her eye.”

“Once you have completed this ritual, there will be no part of your body remaining to give you Master. You will belong to me completely”

“Yes, Sir”

“Your slave offers you her ass for your pleasure”

A little thrill ran though me. She was delighting in her ability to turn me on with words.

I clapped twice. She instantly turned and presented her ass to me with her face on the floor. I commanded her to open, and then purposefully lubricated her ass, driving two fingers into the orifice. It still felt very accommodating and soft. I pointed at the bed and clapped once. She took position one, on her back with her legs wide, her hands on her thighs, placing her head on the cushion I had left there for her. I tied two loops of rope under her knees, and pulled them tight, attaching each one too rings I had installed in the posts of the bed. I pushed a small tubular cushion under her backside, then hauled on the ropes further, pulling her knees back more, allowing her weight to rest on the firm cushion which was under the small of her back. I tied the ends of the cushion to the same rings as I did not want it sliding out and making her uncomfortable. I attached a spreader bar to each ankle and pulled them back attaching it to a ring high above the bed head. I kept her hand relatively free, joining them with a short chain.

Then came the interesting part. I carefully placed a small clamp on the top of the right labia, level with her clitoris, and then another opposite on the other lip. I then placed another two, on either side of her vaginal entrance. A clip attached a small silver chain, from the top clamp, around her leg and back under to be fixed to the bottom clamp. I pulled the chain tight, pulling the labia open. I then repeated the same procedure on the other side, and her cunt was fully open and exposed. She wriggled with discomfort, but was otherwise quiet.

I sat back and looked at her. She was radiant. Her soft, brown body was framed by the white sheets, the canopy which fell about us like a cloud, totally open and exposed, her wet pussy gleaming in the candle light, her ass lifted up and her small brown asshole jutting upward at angle.

“You will now offer your ass” I said simply

“Yes, Sir. It is my honour” she breathed.

I placed the head of my cock at the entrance of her bowel, and gently pressed, released the pressure and pressed again, a little firmer. She suddenly breathed in, but said nothing. I pressed further, keeping up the pressure on her sphincter, and it gave way, the head of my cock sliding partway in. She sucked in her breath again, abruptly feeling a new sensation, I paused for a moment, withdrew the head to the tip, squirted and extra measure of oily lubricant, and then forced the rest of the gland into her slippery hole, and felt with satisfaction the tight ring of flesh grip around the niche under the head of my cock. I gripped hard for a moment, then relaxed. I shifted again, and my cock slowly, relentlessly, inexorably, began to slide into her rectum. I could feel the tight ring of her sphincter, grip and stretch around my cock, an indescribably exquisite sensation, I withdrew partially, before deliberately, and slowly sliding my cock into her again. She was breathing heavily, her eye closed. I could feel her body give way, and relished fucking her in a new, carnal, animalistic, brutal, obscene way. I withdrew again, this time faster, and pushed again, luxuriating it the sensation of the tight grip of her sphincter and the soft, soft flesh behind it. I pushed forward again and nearly reached the bottom, feeling the tight ring nearly at the base of my cock. I was determined to have her completely. I grabbed the vibrator that I had left ready, turned it up to its highest setting, and placed the huge round head of the wand directly on her clitoris, which was totally exposed between the labia stretched wide open. Suddenly the discomfort was joined by pleasure, and I began to slowly, slowly pump my hard cock in and out of her ass, not quite achieving full penetration, but loving the tight, sliding grip of her ass. There is no sensation quite like it. I squirted some more oil, and began to fuck her greasy ass with more urgency. The combination of the vibration and this unnatural, obscene, erotic fucking at last brought her to arousal, and when it started feeling good, it sarted feeling fantastic. She sighed and stretched her legs open, pulling her ass cheeks open with her hands, as I increased bother the pressure of the vibe and the speed of my fucking. Her ass was no completely accustomed to the presence of my cock and it was clear there was no longer any discomfort. It glided easily in and out, rhymicaly until at last, I could feel the familiar quiver, but this time I could feel the contractions around my cock. When she came when in her cunt, I could not feel her so much, but I knew this would be different. I suddenly felt a ripple run up and down my cock as the muscles of her bowel contracted with her impending orgasm. The ripples continued, stopped suddenly, and then suddenly her ass gripped me tightly as she screamed in pleasure, waves of ecstasy running through her.

This pushed me over the edge. I tossed the vibrator aside, gripped her thighs firmly, and slammed my cock fully into her ass, until that tight ring of flesh gripped around the very base of me cock, then I withdrew almost to the head, and drove my cock into her, again up to the hilt.

That’s it slave, you’ve given me everything, now you belong the ME!! As once again I buried my cock fully to the hilt, on the very edge of orgasm . . .

. . . .and

. . . . she said

. . . . . . . “Yes . . MASTER”

The word went through me like a powerful drug, and I exploded into her, my semen gushing deep into her bowels. Like a tidal wave of animal lust. It squirted out for the tight ring around my cock such was the pressure of my ejaculation.

I slumped over her, my cock still buried deep in her, and kissed her. Our mouths locked together in an eternal embrace.