First Submission It had started a few days ago, late in the evening as they'd lain in bed, sated from the evening's play. They had toyed many times with bondage, pain, and games of dominance and submission, and enjoyed every time. He loved the feeling of power over her he always had during their scenes, and the way he could use her to fulfill any fantasy; she, in turn, liked to be dominated. But she still had a difficult time submitting to him, most of the time. She often struggled against him, and as fun as that could be, it didn't give either of them the level of satisfaction that her willing submission would have. They'd tried using slave contracts of different types, giving him more or less power over her, but she still struggled, and eventually they both realized it wasn't helping any. Until that evening, as they laid there talking after their exertions. The conversation had gone on for a long time, different arguments and explanations for her difficulty submitting, but the upshot of it all was that she finally understood what her problem was: that she was still a little bit ashamed of how much she was turned on by being controlled and dominated, so she fought against it. In the end, she had made the decision not to be ashamed any longer. This, in turn, meant that she would no longer fight her husband, unless he asked it of her or she was honestly in a mood to make him force his dominance. This evening is the first time they have played since their conversation, and they are both eager. She is a little nervous as well, but the decision to submit has already been made. He, knowing that this will be the first time he will have her total and unconditional submission, has decided that he will toy with her, making it a difficult submission (at least according to what he knows of her preferences and desires) to see how far she will go. They are in their 'play room', as they call it. The room is large, and soundproofed, for obvious reasons. Centered along one wall, extending out into the room, is a king-size bed, covered with black satin sheets and dark red velvet pillows. The dark mahogany headboard has several bolts screwed into it, to be used as places to tie someone down to. Along the other stone walls are other types of restraints: an x-shaped whipping cross stands against one wall, suspension harnesses and tracks in the ceiling decorate another wall, and the fourth wall simply has bolts like the ones on the headboard anchored in it in all kinds of positions. An armoire stands in a corner, home to their smaller toys. Inside it are a dozen different types and sizes of whips, a half-dozen clamps of varying size and tension, blindfolds, gags, several different collars, wrist cuffs, and leashes, and a selection of needles, knives, and razor blades. In the only open floor area, in front of and to one side of the bed, there is a stone-block table of sorts, standing about waist-height, with straps attached, in case he needs a more solid surface than the bed to tie his wife down on. She has already stripped naked, by her Master's order, and wears only a black leather collar with a steel ring in the front and a pair of matching wrist cuffs. All three of the binding devices are tightened almost painfully tight, so that it is hard for her to move her hands and her breath comes with difficulty. Of course, that is intentional; a deliberate move on her Master's part to inhibit her ability to resist, even if she wants to. Her Master stands in front of her, wearing a pair of black jeans and nothing else. His blue-green eyes glitter with thinly veiled cruelty, and pleasure at how he has her. She stands perfectly still as he paces around her, because he has ordered her to. He walks around behind her and, without warning, grabs her wrists and wrenches her arms back, taking a small steel ring, hinged and open on one side, threading it through the rings on both wristlets, and locking it shut, effectively binding her hands behind her. He releases her bound wrists and walks back around to stand in front of her again, noticing the uncertainty in her eyes. "On your knees," he commands. Without hesitation, she obeys, dropping to kneel before him, head bowed in abject submission, as he had explained the position to her earlier. Her Master smiles his pleasure at her response, then reaches down and takes a handful of her long hair, yanking her head back so that she is forced to stare up at him. Her breath comes shorter as she sees his expression of cruel, dominant pleasure, and she knows her fear will please him even further. "Good girl," he murmurs, stroking his other hand down the side of her face. "I think I like this," he adds. "I like seeing you so helpless, so...vulnerable." His hand slides down to her throat, and he tugs at her hair, forcing her head back even farther to fully expose the soft skin. She trembles at his touch, so casual and yet so menacing, as he knew she would. She has always responded with fear and vulnerability when he toys with her throat. He laughs softly, sending a shiver through her whole body. Because he knows she is defenseless, and afraid because of it, he decides to make a point out of showing her exactly how defenseless she is. He continues to draw her head back until her whole body is arched backwards, until she trembles with the strain of the position, until she feels like her neck will snap if he forces her back any more. He bends over her, his free hand roaming over her naked flesh at will, and whispers to her, "You belong to me now; you know that, don't you? You haven't signed a contract, this time, and you haven't sworn obedience to me-yet-" he adds ominously, "but you are mine, and you know it. You are vulnerable and defenseless against me. I can do anything I want to you, anything at all, and you can't stop me." He draws back a little, smiling as he looks down at her. Tears well in her eyes as she stares up at him; tears of fear, of pain as well, since he has her drawn back so far and all...but behind the tears, he can see desire rising as well. He has her now, and he knows it as well as she does, even better perhaps, because she doesn't understand what has made her so completely obedient, so desperate to please, and he does understand. All she knows is that she cannot resist her Master; not because she has decided to obey, but because, even as she thinks of resisting out of fear, her body betrays her into obedience, following his commands before she has a chance to think about it or decide to do otherwise. Her Master grins, slowly drawing her back up to kneel once more at his feet. With a final caress, his hands leave her body. She kneels before him, swaying slightly, feeling weak and dizzy, waiting for his next command. He watches her as his hands go to the waist of his jeans. He undoes his pants slowly, still watching his slave as he pushes the jeans low on his hips, letting his manhood spring free. Once more, his hand grasps her hair, pressing against the back of her head. "Please me, slave," he orders. And before she has a chance to think, to remember how much she normally dislikes giving oral pleasure, she has obeyed, her body betraying her again. She takes him into her mouth, sliding her tongue down the length of him, and he presses against the back of her head, forcing himself through her mouth and into her throat. Normally, she would pull back against the pressure of his hands, resisting his prompting...but she can't. She finds herself taking him in eagerly, moving her mouth on him in all the ways she knows he enjoys, seeking his pleasure without thought for her own preferences. He keeps her serving him for some time; how long, neither of them knows or cares. For his part, he has made sure he has nowhere to be in the morning, and for her part she is only interested in her Master's pleasure, disregarding all else. He debates coming in her mouth, making her take that as well, and decides not to. There are too many other things he wants to do to her to waste time getting to that point. So, slightly regretfully, he withdraws from her mouth. He stands for a moment, looking down on her as she continues to kneel at his feet, looking up at him. "Stand up," he orders harshly. As soon as she does, he spins her around and removes the connecting ring holding her wrists together behind her back so that her hands fall to her sides. Before she has a chance to massage her half-numb fingers, he spins her back around and shoves her so she falls backwards onto the bed. Gasping with shock, she tries to catch her breath, but he pushes her again, ordering her to lie down in the center of the bed. She hastens to obey, rigid with fear and yet eager to do his bidding. He has her stretch her arms out to the sides and above her head, then ties her wristlets to two of the bolts in the headboard so that she is forced to lie spread-eagled. He stands, then, and walks over to the armoire that holds their other toys, coming back with a black velvet blindfold. He bids her to raise her head, so he can put the blindfold on her. Noticing the look of terror on her face, he decides he has chosen well, in choosing to blindfold her. Of all the things they've done, one of the things that always bothered her the most, frightened her the most, was being unable to see. Even knowing that she has made the commitment to submit to him, he wonders if her submission is strong enough that she will willingly let him bind her eyes. And yet, despite the fear in her eyes, she lifts her head and allows her Master to blindfold her. After he ties the heavy folds of velvet across her face, he returns to the armoire for the other toys he wanted to get, but didn't want her to see. First he pulls out a set of clamps, small but strong, with a row of tiny teeth along the edges. The teeth aren't sharp, but they will add to the pain a little, which is all he wants right now. After the clamps, he selects a flogger, soft deerskin, but with eight or nine thongs-definitely enough to cause a fair amount of pain. And finally, he picks out two needles and a razor blade, and carries the whole stash back over to the bed where his slave waits, bound, blindfolded, and helplessly awaiting his pleasure. He stands over her for a moment, watching her swift, shallow gasping for breath, relishing her fright. Setting the various accoutrements he had chosen down on the bedside table, he picks up the flogger and, without warning, brings it cracking down across the soft skin of her parted thighs. She cries out, her body arching, struggling helplessly against her bonds, tossing her head from side to side as if trying to throw off her blindfold. With a cruel laugh he brings the flogger down again, this time across her stomach and breasts, leaving welts across her nipples. Leaving her tense and expecting another blow, he lays the flogger down and picks up the clamps. She starts as he grasps one already-painful nipple and affixes the clamp onto the very tip of it, then does the same to the other. With the clamps only on the tips of her nipples, it hurts twice as much as it would have, had he set them on more fully. She makes a soft whimpering noise deep in her throat, but refuses to plead with him, even to stop the pain. He pauses and watches her for a moment or two, waiting for her to at least ask him to remove the clamps. But she stays silent, even as tears begin to wet her blindfold. Trying to goad her into begging, he leans over her and flicks at one pinched nipple, grinning at the gasp it provokes. He does it again, is rewarded with a moan, then grabs both clamps and twists hard, and is gratified by the choked scream she cannot hold in. "Too much?" he asks, flicking both clamps one more time. She gasps again, whimpering in pain, and struggles to speak past the chokehold her collar has on her. "Master..." she manages to force out, but cannot say more. "Too much?" he asks again, determined to force a response. "Whatever...you want, Master," his slave whispers. He draws back a little, startled. "So it's up to me to decide how much is too much for you, huh?" he asks, slightly surprised at that. He hadn't though she would submit that far, but it seems she has. He leans close again, delicately licking at one nipple where the clamp pinches it. "Then no. This is not too much." An idea strikes him suddenly, and he remembers the needles lying on the nightstand. He turns and takes one, then turns back and, using the clamp, draws her nipple up so that it is stretched up. She clenches her jaw against the moan of agony that rises, but cannot stifle it completely. He places the tip of the needle against the taut-stretched skin, ready to push it through, and pauses. "Do you remember," he asks, "how we talked about getting your nipples pierced?" And without waiting for a response, he slides the needle in. Slowly enough that she can feel every instant of the steel parting her flesh, yet quick enough that by the time she catches her breath to cry out it is done, and he has released both clamp and needle. He stands over her a moment, watching her chest heave with the effort of her breathing, then goes around to her other side to repeat the process. By the time he is done, she lies trembling with agony and fear both, unsure of what he will do next. "Too much?" he asks for a third time. And this time, he is rewarded. "Yes," she breathes. Her Master smiles, regarding his slave. "Then no more pain. But I'm not done with you yet," he adds as he removes his pants entirely, tossing them aside. "Please," his slave whimpers. He turns back, shocked. "What?" he asks. "Please, Master. I beg you, please..." she gasps. "What do you want?" he murmurs, climbing onto the bed with her. "Take me," she begs. "Please, Master..." A slow grin spreads across his face. To think that she is begging him for exactly what he had planned to do to her anyway, whether she wanted it or not! He reaches out and tenderly caresses his slave's face, gently stroking her collared throat just to see her gasp at the reminder of her vulnerability. "I think you've been a good enough slave that I can give you that," he replies, then without further words sheathes himself in her. She cries out then, at the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure; the pain of her newly pierced nipples, still caught in the clamps, and the whip-weals across her thighs as her Master's body is rubbing hard against her; the pleasure of being taken like this, bound and helpless with her Master thrusting himself so forcefully into her. Afterwards, he unties her blindfold, watching as she blinks in the dim light, then removes the clamps and sets them and the blindfold aside. The needles he leaves where they are; they'll have to stay there until he can buy rings to go in those spots, because he is not going to let those new piercings close over. Finally, he unties her hands and removes the wrist cuffs and collar, only to discover that she can't really move her hands, and that her shoulders are stiff from being wrenched up and out like they have been. Infinitely gentle now that their play is over, he carefully moves her arms until they regain some measure of movement. As soon as she can move a little, he sits beside her and takes her into his arms, cradling his wife as if she were made of glass, working at her hands until the blood moves into them. Her voice is still slightly hoarse, and will likely stay that way for a day or so, from the collar's constriction. Her body still sore, especially at her nipples and the whip-wounds across her thighs and belly, she relaxes into her husband's embrace, trusting herself to his care. He is always unfailingly tender with her after their play, making sure he hasn't done any real damage to her, and tending to those injuries which he has dealt to her in the course of a scene. He kisses her softly, this time treating her as his equal, as his wife rather than as his slave. "So what do you think of this willing submission thing?" she asks him between kisses. He pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance and thinking, then returns his gaze to her. "I loved it, of course. I think I was a little bit rough on you this time, but...I wanted to see how far you would go." She laughs. "I know that. Why do you think I was willing to go so far?" she sobers, though, after a moment. "Though I think I would have gone just as far even if you weren't testing me. I promised you submission; you'll get it." He smiles again, this time a true and loving smile, without any hint of cruelty whatsoever. And as he lowers his lips to hers again, he breathes a last two words for that night. "Thank you."
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