light-speed-saint

[light-speed-saint]

Jenny Caldwell, rescued and enslaved

The rain spatters into the garden on either side of me, bouncing off the withered leaves of dying plants. The door to the century old, three-story mansion is huge; made of heavy black wood with a bronze knocker at just a bout eye level. It’s a lion’s face that’s supposed to be intimidating but looks static and frozen and dead. I grab the ring in the lion’s jaws and wrap three times against the door. The high metallic sound seems small and helpless against the rain. I stand on the stoop, unable to shake a feeling of being watched. Something, somewhere in the gathering storm and deepening twilight, has its eyes upon me, and looks on with malice and bitter cruelty. 

I only have to endure the mysterious spectator for a minute or so before the towering door swings open and Jenny Caldwell invites me to “Come in!” with a beckoning wave. I step over the thresh hold into a carpeted foyer. “Alaric!” Jenny beams while I clean the rain and muck from my boots and hang my rain-soaked jacket “Its so good to see you! We haven’t spoken since…”

“Probably not since you got your realtors licence.” I give Jenny a half smile “and joined the real world.” Its petulant to quote Jenny back at herself, but I cannot resist. 

“Oh, come on. Are you still mad about that? It was just a little ribbing…” 

“Strange thing to put in a breakup letter.” I look at Jenny sidelong. She only blushes for a moment, but I manage to catch it. 

“Yeah.” She sighs. If Jenny is letting herself feel real sadness or guilt it doesn’t last long. She quickly stops and brightens into a force smile. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. But you absolutely *must* see this place. *Its. So. Spooky.* You’ll love it.” 

I accept Jenny’s offer and let her guide me through cavernous, lamp lit parlors and libraries filled with ancient volumes of forgotten lore. The rooms are all magnificent, but Jenny herself more so. Her long, raven hair is tamed into a bun, and her lips are painted red as fresh blood. Part way through the tour she takes off her blazer to reveal her button-down blouse. Lustrous silk hugs her curves, suggestive but not slutty. Her skirt is the same; long enough to be professional, short enough to be enticing. Jenny finishes showing me the master bedroom with a little giggle. Fantasies stream into my brain faster than I can remind myself they’re impossible. “Jenny…” I exhale as rain patters harder against the windows. “What am I doing here?” 

“Well…” she says playing with the gold filament of her necklace. “You might have noticed that this house is…um… it has some bad vibes…” 

“I definitely noticed the bad vibes.” 

“So, I was kinda hoping you could do a little hocus pocus and get it ready for me to sell…” 

I think for a minute. “I don’t know what exactly the problem is, but I could give you my friends and family rate for an exorcism.” 

Jenny hesitates, then tells me that “This project is… kinda out of money, and I really need this house to sell.” 

With a rush of terrible clarity, I understand Jenny’s game. Dress on the very edge of skimpy and smile just sweetly enough to get me chasing what was never there. The softest parts of my heart want to help, but I force them to harden. “I can’t work for free.” 

“Come on, Ricky.” She uses the pet name I have allowed to her alone. “Help a pretty girl out of a jam. For old times sake.” 

“The guild would have my head. And I can’t come charging in whenever you so much as bat your lashes.” 

“Please!” Jenny clutches my arm in sudden desperation. “I’m really in trouble here. You can’t leave me alone against whatever is haunting this place.” 

I chew on the flesh of my cheek. It would be callous to leave Jenny alone against the evil lingering in this house. I swing between pride, bitterness and something that moves between lust and chivalry that finally makes me say “I can watch over you while you perform your own ritual. But if I need to come to your rescue I’ll have to collect my payment in kind.” 

Jenny thinks for a moment. “So if you have to save me from whatever ghostie this is, I become your little slave whore? Is that it?” 

“In broad strokes, yes.” I nod. 

Jenny sighs. “I can work with that.” 

I sit on the edge of the bed and watch as Jenny pours a circle of salt; carefully following the instructions of her cheap grimoire. She lights four tea candles placing each at a different point on the circle. The fifth candle, and the closest to me, is a tall black tapper which Jenny puts onto a skull, or replica skull, and sets in place to form the top point of the star. Jenny looks out over the circle that she has just made and draws a steadying breath. I watch from behind as she starts to undress. She removes her shirt to reveal the toned sinews of her shoulders and her back; the gently sloping curve of her hips. Jenny lowers her skirt slowly, showing off the dimples in her back, the smooth skin and perfect arc of her ass.  She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Enjoy the view, but don’t get used to it.” She says with a wink. Jenny undoes the bun in her hair, which falls down her back like an obsidian waterfall. Wearing only her stockings and her garter along with high heeled shoes that gleam in the candlelight, Jenny starts to whisper. Her voice is fast and low as she begins her exhortation. 

I cannot make out Jenny’s words but know right away that something is wrong. All around her circle the salt seethes. Tendrils of reddish shadow reach from the inner edge to the middle of the pentagram. They swallow each other when they touch, becoming longer and thicker until one reaches the middle. Then the shadow starts to spread; at first its only a small patch the light cannot touch, but soon its big enough to fill the centre of the pentagram. That’s when the hands begin to emerge. 

They aren’t quite skeletal, and they aren’t quite human. The hands have long fingers tipped with claws like spear points. Each hand is connected to an arm. I don’t know exactly how many arms reach out from the portal, because I stop counting after ten. The bone of each arm is connected to another behind it, but none ever touches a shoulder. The arms, covered in leathery grey skin, join together to make an infinite chain of elbows reaching back into the void. Some of the hands drive their talons into the floor and begin to tug, trying to haul something out of the menacing puddle of shadow. Others reach for Jenny, each claw point making an indent in her soft skin. Jenny continues bravely, but she is unable to keep her cadence steady and I can hear the quaver in her voice. 

The pulling hands finally succeed in their task, hauling up something shaped like an immense human skull. It hurts to look at; the eye sockets are not so much black as they are the colour of fear and madness. Its jaw falls open and I can see that there are teeth, but only for show. The real work of chewing, of devouring, will be done by the utter depravity and despair that swirl in what would be a mouth. Jenny’s voice catches, her resolve finally breaking. She screams as the skull rushes forward to swallow her into torturous oblivion. 

I cannot leave Jenny to this fate. I find the dagger I keep tucked in my belt and slice through the air above Jenny’ head, I cut through the hand the demon has sent forth to claim her, It, and all the other hands, shrivel back.  I call out “Karthenos, king of the malicious void and lord of the tormented darkness. I see you with Megara’s vigilance and strike you with Tisiphone’ scourge. With Alecto’s wrath I break your bones! With Hekate’s torches you are burned!” The demon screams, and some of the hands lose their grip, but more emerge and start reaching for me. One grabs my wrist. I inhale. “The furies, the three furies, gather to condemn you. You are ash. You are empty wind. You are less than dust underneath their sandals.” There’s a sudden, metal on metal shriek that pounds into my bones. The shadow at the centre of the pentagram changes to a pool of radiant water. Karthenos’ hands all loose their grips at once, and he falls away from us into the golden, untroubled light. 

At my feet Jenny weeps softly, I reach down to touch her hair and find that she is trembling. “You saved me.” She says. 

“I did. Do you remember what that means?” 

Jenny’s voice trembles as she answers “It means that I’m yours.” 

“That you’re my what?” 

Jenny’s trembling stops, and she peacefully tells me “It means that I’m your slave, sir.”  

Jenny kneels before me, clad only in her stockings and her black high heels: not naked yet totally exposed. I stand above her, watching the slow heave of her breasts while her eyes sparkle with trepidation and desire. I tilt Jenny’s head upward, force her to look me in the eyes as I slide two fingers into the softness of her mouth. I use them to turn her head slowly from side to side, inspecting my pretty whore’s face from all its beautiful angles. I pull my fingers away and tell Jenny to “Put your hands behind your back like a good little slut.” 

Jenny hesitates for a moment, but does as she is instructed. Between her knees the candle from her spell is still flickering, resting on the skull, or replica skull she hoped would lend it some power. I pick up the candle, Jenny watches as I pour a few drops onto my forearm. The wax is painful, but not hot enough to burn deeply or permanently. I smile wickedly down at Jenny. “Are you ready to be a good little whore and suffer for me?” 

A nervous shudder runs through Jenny’s body before she answers. “Yes, sir. I’m ready sir.” 

I take some time to caress Jenny’s breasts, letting my fingers cradle and grope, tease over her nipples. I savour the softness of her skin and the fearful gallop of Jenny’s heart in the moments before her torment begins. 

I pour the first fiery drops on to the top of Jenny’s chest. The sudden heat makes her gasp as the molten wax makes contact. I move the candle closer, so each drop has less time to cool as it falls and let three more drops fall onto her skin. The burn is more intense, sudden and searing; Jenny gives soft pathetic whimpers. I pour a pyroclastic cascade between my whore’s breasts and watch her mouth fall open into a voiceless but agonized scream. I give her a second to recover before pouring another hot stream onto the inside of Jenny’s thigh, making her squeak in pain. Another, on the inside of the other thigh, elicits a plaintive yelp. I raise the candle again, but Jenny winces and tries to pull back from the pain. 

I grab her by the throat. “I thought you were going to be a good whore and suffer for me.” 

“Yes.” Jenny gasps, my grip is just tight enough to make her fight for breath. 

“Do good whores run away from pain?” 

Jenny swallows. “No, sir. No they don’t.” 

“Then why are you trying to get away from me?” 

“Because I… it… the pain is…” Fear and agony and lust all cloud my whore’s little mind, make it hard to find her words. 

“Is it too much?” I ask, caressing Jenny’s cheek. 

“Yes, sir. Its too much, I can’t take it.” 

I give Jenny a gentle and reassuring smile. “I thought you could take more, but if you need mercy you only need to beg for it.” 

I take Jenny by the chin, tilt her head so she looks up at me while she pleads. “Please, sir. Please have mercy on your helpless little whore. Please please please.” 

I step back and take a long second to look over Jenny’s body. “Show me.” I command. “Show me how much you want my mercy.” 

Jenny bends forward, instinctively and obsequiously, lifting her ass into the air and placing her face beside my boot. Jenny’s lips part and she extends her tongue. I feel a slight pressure against my foot as my whore runs the livid pink of her tongue along the clean black of the leather. “Please, sir.” She says after the first lick. She changes sides for the second, applying the soft wetness of her mouth to my instep before begging me to “Please have mercy on your whore. Your pathetic slave.” Another lick over my instep, more supplicating words. “I’ll be so good. And it burns so much.” Jenny moves back to the outside before she says “I can make you feel so good. Please mercy. Please can I make you feel good.” Jenny falls silent and rests her head on the top of my laces. I exhale, steadying myself between the lust and sadism that rush through my veins, then grab Jenny by the hair. 

I lift her head so that she is on all fours, order her to “Follow me. Crawl.” I lead my whore around the room, keeping my pace steady; just slow enough that she can keep up on her hands and knees, but fast enough that she is off balance. From the corner of my eyes, I watch Jenny’s ass and her hips, the way the muscles in her back move in this atavistic display of surrender. I finally bring Jenny to the bed and lift her to her feet before manhandling her unceremoniously to the mattress. “This.” I run my finger along the outside of Jenny’s labia, teasing my little whore. “This is a view I could get used to.” 

“Yes, sir.” My whore moans. “Thank you, sir.” 

There’s no warning the spanking is coming. Jenny knows only when my hand strikes against her vulnerable and sensitive ass like lightning. I watch the skin of her buttocks glow pink, order her once again to “Beg. Beg to be fucked like the whore that you are.” More spanks fall onto Jenny’s ass. She screams for the pain of each impact before groveling “Please fuck me, sir. Please. I’m just—" Her words are cut off by more tortured moans as the spanking continues and the sting in her ass becomes overwhelming. “Just your little slave. Your whore. I just want to make you feel good. Please. Please I can make you feel so good sir.” 

“Yeah?” I pause Jenny’s spanking to squeeze the flesh of her ass. “My whore’s pussy is nice and wet for me? Waiting for my cock to stretch it out?” 

“Yes. I’m so wet for you, sir. Please fuck me. Stretch me out with your big cock. Fill me up with your cum, please. I—” 

Jenny’s pathetic begging is cut off by a squeal of animalistic pleasure as I give her what she wants so desperately. My cock presses deep into the welcoming heat of her pussy. I make my whore take every inch, thrusting into her over and over. She gasps and mewls as bliss sparkles in her synapses. Then yelps as my hand impacts her ass. Jenny’s eyes close and her mouth goes slack. The steady glow of pleasure and bright flashes of pain leave my whore’s mind blank. I watch her fingers curl and feel her leg start to shake as agony and bliss overwhelm her nervous system. In her abject capitulation she occasionally moans “Please.” 

With a spank on her glorious ass, I tell Jenny to “Come for me. Show me how grateful you are for the chance to be my compliant fucking slave.” Jenny obeys with out saying a word, just gasps and trembles as she plunges into ecstasy.

[light-speed-saint]

Horny Brain: MAKE HER LICK YOUR BOOTS! Writer Brain: That seems like a bit much, but I did set it up pretty… Horny Brain: I DON'T CARE ABOUT SET UP MAKE HER LICK YOUR BOOTS!

[light-speed-saint]

"Yes, sir. I need it. I need to be your dumb slut"

Penny trembles as the fear takes control of her body and her mind. I cannot blame her for being afraid as she stands before me with her hands bound above her head, and only the soft, delicate fabric of a sundress to shield her tender body from my wanton cruelty. Her little ballet flats move back and forth over the dungeon floor as she struggles to keep her balance, each tap and squeak and scuff echoes off the walls. I watch her like this, beautiful, terrified, helpless, for a minute that must feel to her like an eternity. I take in the desperate heave of her chest and the curve of her hips; admire how the hem of Penny’s dress flutters around her thighs as she struggles, watch the little motions in the sinews of her legs that come with every step. 

Penny can only watch, with wide glittering eyes, as I rise slowly from my chair and approach her with deliberate steps. She doesn’t say anything but the primal, desperate fear in her eyes pleads in a way deeper than words will allow. Without speaking, Penny begs obsequiously for mercy. I make a casual circuit, walking around my slave girl and imagining all the ways that I might make her suffer; the whimpering as clamps bite into her nipples, or the screams as a switch strikes her ass. When I come back around to the front, I spend a little more time simply watching Penny as she struggles hopelessly. 

My hands act before my mind has decided. They flick out my knife and pull the fabric of Penny’s dress taught. I cut through it slowly, letting the sound of each severed thread fill the dungeon. A sob, or maybe a nervous hiccup, leaps from Penny’s throat. 

“Its alright, pretty girl.” I finally speak to offer her some comfort, brushing away the useless rag that was once Penny’s dress. “I’m not really going to hurt you. You just have to suffer a little while for me.” 

“Yes… yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Penny gasps nervously. The knife cuts through the centre of her bra, separating its halves and exposing her breasts. I explore with a gentle, unhurried hand; caressing and cradling, feeling the gallop of Penny’s heart, the hardening of her nipples. My fingertips flow down Penny’s stomach, then trace along the top edge of her panties. She whimpers as they brush over her hips, and wriggles when pleasure flows in through the fear. My fingers move slowly up and down over her vulva, teasing Penny through the fabric of her underwear. 

“Do you know why this is happening?” I ask in a whisper, lips just brushing Penny’s ear.  

“Its… because I… Its because…” Penny’s stammers in a quavering voice, her thoughts clouded by lust and by fear. “Its because I… I lost the bet.” 

“That’s true.” I pull Penny close, letting her feel the solidness of my body. I slow the motion of my fingers over her vulva but increase the pressure. Send longer, more intense waves of not-quite-bliss crashing through her nervous system. “But I think we can go a little deeper. Why did you lose the bet?” 

“Because… be... because…” Penny tries to answer but cannot find her words in the rising flood of pleasure. 

“Because you’re a dumb slut?” I offer. 

“Yes.” Penny gasps. “Yes, sir. Because I’m a dumb slut, sir.” 

I take my fingers away. Penny moans with petulant need as the pleasure recedes. From the wall I take a flogger, then return. Tell Penny that “Now I am going to make you *my* dumb slut.” I strike Penny’s ass with my hand, then squeeze the burning flesh. Growl “If you’re worthy.” into her ear. I lower Penny’s underwear to her thighs, leaving her not naked but none the less exposed. “Please…” She whispers meekly “Please, sir, may I be your dumb slut.” 

I lash the flogger across her ass, the impact echoes from the walls and a cry of agony interrupts Penny’s pleading, but as the pain fades she finds her rhythm again. “I’ll be so good for you.” She grovels. “I’ll be a good little toy for you to use—” She stops again as the flogger lands twothreefourfivesix times across her vulnerable buttocks. The pain becomes more intense, burns away the words Penny needs to beg. There’s a silence when I pause. I circle to the front and watch as Penny’s chest moves up and down as she gathers the ashes of her thoughts. “I can… I’ll let… I’ll suck… I can—” 

I let forth with a storm of pain just as Penny’s mind starts to clear. I don’t bother with counting each blow, just let the tresses fall across her tits like a hailstorm. Penny’s skin glows pink, then livid red. I move lower, tormenting her belly. Its not as sensitive but the pain is still enough to make her whimper and squirm. I switch back and forth between Penny’s stomach and her breasts, watching as she puts on a show of sublime agony. When she is on the very edge of tears, I finally stop. I take Penny’s jaw into my hand, tilt her head to look up at me. “Please…” Penny says with sparkling, needy eyes “please let me be your dumb slut, sir.” 

I handle Penny like a porcelain doll. Undoing the rope that binds her hands above her head, bringing them gently behind her back before tying them again; delicately stripping her panties all the way off, so she is naked except for her pretty shoes. Around her lovely neck I clip a chain, and with a gentle tug I lead Penny, leashed and broken, to the bed. I bend her slowly to the soft sheets, run a soothing but possessive hand over the burning skin of her ass. It takes no more than a tap to spread my dumb slut’s thighs. Her jaw falls open and she gives an atavistic moan as my cock slides into her eager cunt. I fuck Penny gently at first, listening to the soft gasps and moans of her enjoyment. But I speed up, and the soft gasps and moans turn into whimpers of abject pleasure. My hand clamps onto Penny’s neck, pins her down as her leg starts to shake. “Remember pretty girl, you are my dumb slut. And my dumb slut does not come with out permission.” 

After a pathetic, plaintive mewl Penny starts to beg again. “Please, sir. Please may I come, please. I need it. Please.” 

“It feels good to be my dumb slut, doesn’t it?” I smile down at Penny. 

“Yes. Please, sir. I need—” 

My hand slaps hard against Penny’s ass, a little spike of pain in the torrent of bliss, as I command her to “Say it.” 

“It feels good to be your dumb slut, sir.” Penny complies. “It feels… I need it. Please may I.... I need…” 

“You need it? You need to be my dumb slut?” I don’t slap this time, but grope Penny’s ass and shove my cock as deep as she can take. 

“Yes.” She breathes. “Yes, sir. I need it. I need to be your dumb slut. Please, sir. Please may I—” 

I cut Penny off, pulling her leash tight as I tell her to “Come for me, like the dumb, desperate slut that you are.” Her whole-body trembles, then stiffens. Penny gasps and quivers as ecstasy rushes through her body. Then she goes quiet, an empty-headed slut-slave settling into the post orgasmic tranquility.

[light-speed-saint]

"Yes, sir. I need it. I need to be your dumb slut"

Penny trembles as the fear takes control of her body and her mind. I cannot blame her for being afraid as she stands before me with her hands bound above her head, and only the soft, delicate fabric of a sundress to shield her tender body from my wanton cruelty. Her little ballet flats move back and forth over the dungeon floor as she struggles to keep her balance, each tap and squeak and scuff echoes off the walls. I watch her like this, beautiful, terrified, helpless, for a minute that must feel to her like an eternity. I take in the desperate heave of her chest and the curve of her hips; admire how the hem of Penny’s dress flutters around her thighs as she struggles, watch the little motions in the sinews of her legs that come with every step. 

Penny can only watch, with wide glittering eyes, as I rise slowly from my chair and approach her with deliberate steps. She doesn’t say anything but the primal, desperate fear in her eyes pleads in a way deeper than words will allow. Without speaking, Penny begs obsequiously for mercy. I make a casual circuit, walking around my slave girl and imagining all the ways that I might make her suffer; the whimpering as clamps bite into her nipples, or the screams as a switch strikes her ass. When I come back around to the front, I spend a little more time simply watching Penny as she struggles hopelessly. 

My hands act before my mind has decided. They flick out my knife and pull the fabric of Penny’s dress taught. I cut through it slowly, letting the sound of each severed thread fill the dungeon. A sob, or maybe a nervous hiccup, leaps from Penny’s throat. 

“Its alright, pretty girl.” I finally speak to offer her some comfort, brushing away the useless rag that was once Penny’s dress. “I’m not really going to hurt you. You just have to suffer a little while for me.” 

“Yes… yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Penny gasps nervously. The knife cuts through the centre of her bra, separating its halves and exposing her breasts. I explore with a gentle, unhurried hand; caressing and cradling, feeling the gallop of Penny’s heart, the hardening of her nipples. My fingertips flow down Penny’s stomach, then trace along the top edge of her panties. She whimpers as they brush over her hips, and wriggles when pleasure flows in through the fear. My fingers move slowly up and down over her vulva, teasing Penny through the fabric of her underwear. 

“Do you know why this is happening?” I ask in a whisper, lips just brushing Penny’s ear.  

“Its… because I… Its because…” Penny’s stammers in a quavering voice, her thoughts clouded by lust and by fear. “Its because I… I lost the bet.” 

“That’s true.” I pull Penny close, letting her feel the solidness of my body. I slow the motion of my fingers over her vulva but increase the pressure. Send longer, more intense waves of not-quite-bliss crashing through her nervous system. “But I think we can go a little deeper. Why did you lose the bet?” 

“Because… be... because…” Penny tries to answer but cannot find her words in the rising flood of pleasure. 

“Because you’re a dumb slut?” I offer. 

“Yes.” Penny gasps. “Yes, sir. Because I’m a dumb slut, sir.” 

I take my fingers away. Penny moans with petulant need as the pleasure recedes. From the wall I take a flogger, then return. Tell Penny that “Now I am going to make you *my* dumb slut.” I strike Penny’s ass with my hand, then squeeze the burning flesh. Growl “If you’re worthy.” into her ear. I lower Penny’s underwear to her thighs, leaving her not naked but none the less exposed. “Please…” She whispers meekly “Please, sir, may I be your dumb slut.” 

I lash the flogger across her ass, the impact echoes from the walls and a cry of agony interrupts Penny’s pleading, but as the pain fades she finds her rhythm again. “I’ll be so good for you.” She grovels. “I’ll be a good little toy for you to use—” She stops again as the flogger lands twothreefourfivesix times across her vulnerable buttocks. The pain becomes more intense, burns away the words Penny needs to beg. There’s a silence when I pause. I circle to the front and watch as Penny’s chest moves up and down as she gathers the ashes of her thoughts. “I can… I’ll let… I’ll suck… I can—” 

I let forth with a storm of pain just as Penny’s mind starts to clear. I don’t bother with counting each blow, just let the tresses fall across her tits like a hailstorm. Penny’s skin glows pink, then livid red. I move lower, tormenting her belly. Its not as sensitive but the pain is still enough to make her whimper and squirm. I switch back and forth between Penny’s stomach and her breasts, watching as she puts on a show of sublime agony. When she is on the very edge of tears, I finally stop. I take Penny’s jaw into my hand, tilt her head to look up at me. “Please…” Penny says with sparkling, needy eyes “please let me be your dumb slut, sir.” 

I handle Penny like a porcelain doll. Undoing the rope that binds her hands above her head, bringing them gently behind her back before tying them again; delicately stripping her panties all the way off, so she is naked except for her pretty shoes. Around her lovely neck I clip a chain, and with a gentle tug I lead Penny, leashed and broken, to the bed. I bend her slowly to the soft sheets, run a soothing but possessive hand over the burning skin of her ass. It takes no more than a tap to spread my dumb slut’s thighs. Her jaw falls open and she gives an atavistic moan as my cock slides into her eager cunt. I fuck Penny gently at first, listening to the soft gasps and moans of her enjoyment. But I speed up, and the soft gasps and moans turn into whimpers of abject pleasure. My hand clamps onto Penny’s neck, pins her down as her leg starts to shake. “Remember pretty girl, you are my dumb slut. And my dumb slut does not come with out permission.” 

After a pathetic, plaintive mewl Penny starts to beg again. “Please, sir. Please may I come, please. I need it. Please.” 

“It feels good to be my dumb slut, doesn’t it?” I smile down at Penny. 

“Yes. Please, sir. I need—” 

My hand slaps hard against Penny’s ass, a little spike of pain in the torrent of bliss, as I command her to “Say it.” 

“It feels good to be your dumb slut, sir.” Penny complies. “It feels… I need it. Please may I.... I need…” 

“You need it? You need to be my dumb slut?” I don’t slap this time, but grope Penny’s ass and shove my cock as deep as she can take. 

“Yes.” She breathes. “Yes, sir. I need it. I need to be your dumb slut. Please, sir. Please may I—” 

I cut Penny off, pulling her leash tight as I tell her to “Come for me, like the dumb, desperate slut that you are.” Her whole-body trembles, then stiffens. Penny gasps and quivers as ecstasy rushes through her body. Then she goes quiet, an empty-headed slut-slave settling into the post orgasmic tranquility.

[light-speed-saint]

A day as my fuck doll

Being on a leash shouldn’t feel good, but you cannot help that it does. You’re clad only in the thin silk of your panties with your hands cuffed behind your back. The black-out lenses in your eyes are not enough to blind you completely, but they reduce the world to a play of light and shadow. You are alone and exposed in this blurred and featureless world. No, not quite alone. The soft leather of the collar around your neck reminds you that I am close. You kneel in front of my chair, occasionally feeling the links of the chain shifting across your skin. All you can do is wait, enjoying the blissful emptiness of your head and eager tingle of your pussy, while I read or play games or work; wait for me to use my good little fuck toy. 

You cannot tell how much time has passed when the leash is suddenly pulled tight. You feel my steadying hand on your shoulder as I lift you to your feet. The direction of the tension changes and you follow without thinking. Wherever I am leading, I take you there slowly, allowing myself to savour the sight of your exposed body and trusting eyes. With a sudden force I pull you close, making you stumble into the solid mass of my body. I squeeze your ass while you lean against me, then push you against the wall and grope your breasts with slow, possessive fingers. You don’t even think to resist, even if you did there is nothing you could do. You only gasp and moan, a good little doll accepting my dominion over your body. 

I step away, but a tug on your leash reminds you that I am still in control as I once more lead you towards an unknown fate. You follow obediently until I bring you to a stop. The hand cuffs click as I take them off. There’s a gentle hiss, and a sudden feeling of softness against your skin as I stretch you across the sheets. Your pussy sings, its high and needy song echoing through your whole body as the cuffs lock around your wrists once again, securing you to the headboard. I grab you by the throat, and the song of need between your thighs rises into an aria of primal desperation. My hand runs slowly over your chest and belly, down your hips to strip away your panties. At last, desperate and helpless, you are laid bare before me.

My hand still slides over your skin with a soft, exploratory caress. Less than a second after you feel my fingertips leave there’s a sudden sharp burn on your chest. Pain pierces into the softness of your void as I pour the hot wax onto your skin. It catches you off guard, making you yelp and thrash. You struggle harder still as you feel a fiery cascade falling onto your belly, then searing drops fall on either side of it. There’s no way for you to predict where the wax will land. You keep thrashing but have no hope of freeing yourself. All you do is put on a wonderful show for me as I torment you. The heat of the wax is sharp and clear and agonizing as it falls across your chest and belly in a storm of burning rain. Occasionally a few drops, a little cooler but still painful, drip one by one onto your thighs. There’s nothing you can do but twist your body hopelessly and whimper in pain. 

There’s only a subtle change in the light above, but you know something is happening. You feel my hand running down the inside of your thigh, then lifting it over my shoulder, exposing the most sensitive and sacred part of you to my tender mercy. I once again take a hold of your throat, making you fight for each breath as my cock fills you. The desperate aria is replaced by roiling waves of pleasure. You have no power to resist them, just gasp and squeak as they carry you along. The pleasure builds as I use you, flowing in from the extremities and out from the centre. You are bound, suffering, and helpless as the orgasm flows over you. You come as a mind less, obedient fuck doll. A little toy being used by her owner.

[light-speed-saint]

"your pussy is so needy and your will so weak"

You try to resist, but alone in the shower with hot water spraying over your skin and running down your back, your self-control collapses. Your fingers turn the dial of the shower head to pulse without permission from your brain, and your arms press it against your vulva instinctively. The pleasure isn’t much, but after being denied as long as you have, its enough to make you close your eyes and breathe deeply. 

They open again when the water shuts off and a rush of cold air blows away the gentle, embracing steam. You feel my hands on your hips as I man handle you from the shower. Before you know what’s happening your pinned against the wall; your wrists are being tied behind your back. Drops of water trickle down your skin as my strong fingers squeeze the flesh of your buttocks. “Who does this ass belong to?” I ask. 

You stammer that “It.. it belongs to you…” as my hands run up from the top of your thighs and over your belly to cradle your breasts. I tease your nipples, send pleasure spilling through your body when I ask “Who owns these tits?” 

 “You do sir.” You gasp, heart pounding in your chest and pussy throbbing between your thighs. My hands flow down again until they reach your hips. They keep going until there are only a few teasing inches between the tips of my fingers and your aching pussy. With my other hand I pull your head back, exposing your throat and forcing you to look up at me when I ask “Who owns this cute little pussy?” 

A fog of fear and desire rolls into your mind. The tingle between your thighs gets more and more urgent as my touch drifts closer to your labia. “You own it, sir.” You manage to pull the words out of your needy haze. 

“If it belongs to me why are you touching it without permission?” I ask pulling you from the wall. Water drips from your hair onto your skin as I frog march you down the hall towards the bedroom. You stumble, struggling to keep up with my steps, but I don’t let you fall. My strength restrains and supports you as I push you past the threshold and lay you across the bed. 

“Please, sir.” You beg as my fingertips run slowly up the back of your helpless thigh. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…” The haze is back, fogging up your mind so badly you can’t even finish your pleas. 

You can feel my hand caressing you, moving up and down the curve of your buttocks in long, slow strokes. I tell you that “I know you didn’t mean to be bad. But your pussy is so needy and your will so weak.” My voice is gentle, almost sympathetic when I say “but there still have to be consequences. I can’t just let you play with my property. I have to show you how to be a good girl. And I expect to hear you thanking me for it, understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” You answer. Less than a second later the unforgiving wood of the paddle slams into the vulnerable skin of your ass. You are still lying in your fog, but the sudden pain makes three words clear. “Thank you, sir.” You speak. Another blow falls on the opposite side of your ass and you once again say “Thank you, sir.” Each impact is harder, and the sting on your skin more intense, but you continue to express your gratitude for the agony I inflict. I aim lower, striking at sensitive spots that send pain lancing into your flesh, making you cry out before thanking me. Soon all your thoughts are gone; burned away by the spanking or lost in the fog of atavistic need. 

I stand above you, watching your skin change from its natural colour into a vivid pink, then settle into the soft purple and blue of a sunset. I savour the way you squirm and whimper, thrashing helplessly as I punish you. “Look at you, taking your punishment and saying thank you like a good little slut.” My hand strokes the skin of your ass, soothing some of the hurt that I have inflicted. You don’t say anything, just bask in the relief of my touch. My finger tips run down the length of your thigh, spreading your legs as I ask “Now that you know what happens  when you’re disobedient, do you want to know what it feels like to be my good little slut?” 

“Yes. Yes please, sir. Please let me—” 

Your begging is cut off. My cock fills your pussy and pleasure bursts through your whole body. You have no more need of words, you just lie helplessly in the bliss of being fucked as each stroke presses as deep as you can take. “See how good it feels to be my sweet little whore?” I ask, groping your ass as I fuck you. You whimper as the pleasure of being owned floods into your brain. Your toes curl and your leg trembles. I feel your pussy soak and clench. You feel my hand impact your ass. The pain snaps you back to reality just long enough to hear me ask “Are you going to come with out Permission, little slut?” 

“No. No, sir. I won’t. I’ll be good.” 

“Then beg.” I order. “Beg like the needy whore you are.” 

You don’t hesitate to debase yourself. “Please can I come, sir. Please please. I’ll be so good. I won’t… I won’t touch myself unless you say…  I’ll be such a good fuck toy for you. I need it. I neeeed to come. Please please please.” 

I shove you into the mattress and call you “Good girl.” Before commanding you to “come for me. Show me how good it feels to be my little slut.” 

You let go, the last parts of your mind are washed away in glittering torrents of ecstasy. Your whole body quivers helplessly as an orgasm through body like a tsunami.

[light-speed-saint]

You try so hard to be good, and you’re taking your punishment so well, are you ready for more?” 

The body suit you wear isn’t see through, but its lacy fabric lets the little details peak through. It’s black with white frills. If one were generous, it could be called a uniform. But it’s closer to a reminder; the very idea of your submission made manifest and pressed against your skin. You cannot help but feel this as you bring my coffee up from the kitchen. Even ascending the stairs with no one watching, you feel exposed, and it only gets worse as you enter my office. I look up from my desk as you cross the threshold, making a little ember of excitement kindle between your thighs. It gets hotter and more insistent as you approach. My eyes roll up and down your body, seeking out the glimpses of your breasts and your vulva that make it through the lace of your uniform. By the time you place the coffee on my desk the heat from your pussy is steady and desperate.  

I take my first sip. The look of surprise and disappointment is only on my face for a second, but still sends a spike of icy fear through your heart. You realize the coffee has gone cold. You expect anger at your failure, but my voice is calm, even sympathetic as I order “Hands behind your back, pretty girl.” The little flame between your thighs becomes still more insistent, and your body moves automatically at my command. I make you stand like that, arms folded and imagined punishments racing through your mind, as I make a few last notes and put away the file I was using. Then I lean back in my chair, let my eyes flow over your chest and your hips. It would be better if you were naked, then at least you could know what I see and guess at what torment I might inflict, but as it is the lace keeps you from even that comforting certainty. “You had three tasks today pretty girl.” I say before asking in a gentle voice “do you remember what they were?” 

“I… um… they were… uh… I…” You try to answer but your thoughts are lost between the hot, urgent thrum of your pussy and the unsteady gallop of your heart. All you can do is tremble and stammer as I look you over.  After a few seconds, maybe half a minute, that feel like an eternity I get up from my chair. “I understand the problem.” I declare, coming around the desk. My fingers just touch the skin at the base of your neck; they flow down your spine to the small of your back. You feel my hand cradle and then grope the flesh of your ass while I tell you that “My needy little slave is too horny to think. Is that what’s wrong pretty girl?” 

You can’t deny it. The searing throb of your pussy burns any thoughts to ash before they can even form. All you can do is nod as my hands explore your body. “That can be solved.” I explain with only a hint of a wicked smile on my lips. “But first we have to make sure that my slave understands her duties and her place.” I think for a moment, while long slow caresses from my fingers tease your vulva through thin fabric. “I’ll give you clear, simple instructions.” I decide, then command you to “Fetch the strap, pretty girl. And carry it with both hands and present it to me while kneeling. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” You half blurt and half gasp. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” 

I give you an encouraging tap on the buttocks and watch as you leave the room. You find the paddle quickly and return, carrying it ceremoniously: balanced on the palms of your up turned hands. Once again, I watch you enter, half smiling as you sink to your knees before me. You don’t speak but beg to be punished by bowing your head and lifting the strap towards me like a sacred offering. Looking down, you can only see your own thighs, but the feeling of air against your palms tells you I have accepted your offering. 

Without warning I grab you by the hair and pull you to your feet. You have barely enough time to yelp in pain and surprise before I bend you to the desk with a soft touch and irresistible strength. I touch the strap to your ass, gently, just to let you feel the cool, flexible leather as I explain that “I am going to spank you. And I won’t stop until you have properly apologized for each task you failed to complete. Do you understand, pretty girl?” 

You swallow hard, helpless and bent over the desk, completely at my mercy. You have no choice but to answer “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.” 

“Good girl.” I say, gathering your wrists at the small of your back. 

The first blow of the strap falls, leaving a bright, painful sting across your ass. I tower over you, watching your skin tint a livid pink. The pain gets more intense as I strike again and again and again, each impact pushing you closer to the limit. You whimper and squirm, trying to remember the tasks I gave you and struggling to break free. It’s no good. I am easily strong enough to hold you in place, and it’s impossible to think through the pain of the spanking and the fiery need of your pussy. Finally, as the agony becomes almost unbearable, a single word pops loose in your mind. “Laundry” You blurt. “I’m sorry I forgot the laundry.” 

The apology is enough to earn you a reprieve. My slow, soothing hand running up and down the skin of your ass, dulling the pain a little. “I know, pretty girl. You try so hard to be good, and you’re taking your punishment so well, are you ready for more?” 

You have to push the words past a lump in your throat. Part of you is scared of the pain, but the part that wants to be my good little servant, and the part that wants to get fucked like a whore, are stronger. You answer “Yes, sir. I’m ready, sir.” 

The strikes come less frequently, but they hit lower, in the sensitive spot just above your thighs. The pain no longer stays on the surface. Instead, it flashes along neurons and across synapses. You can predict when you will feel each impact, but there’s no way to brace yourself. The pain goes deeper with each one; racing towards the core of you. A whimper rises in your chest and spills past your lips. Unbidden, they shape it into the word “Books.” You gasp, trying to think through agony and desire. “I forgot to put away the books. I’m sorry, sir.” 

“You’re so good at remembering when we find the right motivation.” I give some of the praise you need so badly. You feel my hands again, moving tenderly over the spots I have just finished tormenting. “We’ll have to make sure you remember this spanking, so you won’t need another.” 

Another spank falls across the top of your ass, unheralded and bright as lightning. Pain bursts through your brain like a super nova. You scream and it fades into a pathetic moan. I wait, letting the agony I have just inflicted diminish for a few seconds, but you know another strike is coming. You breathe deeply, managing the pain and trying to remember the last task you forgot. It shouldn’t be hard. You only just missed, and your failure brought on this punishment. But the dazzling pain of the strap and pulsing heat of desire make it impossible to think. I strike again, and more sharp, glittering hurt explodes through your body. I give it time to settle and fade. You are on the edge of tears, shaking as you scramble to gain control of your thoughts. In the temporary calm they reform slowly, coalescing around the world “Coffee.” You finally say. “I’m sorry I let your coffee get cold, sir.”  

You don’t see anything change, but the sound of the strap falling to the carpet tells you the spanking is over. Strong hands pull you up from the desk and spin you around to face me. I strip you roughly. Yanking the fabric of your body suit away from your skin and rolling it towards the floor. Before you can register what happened, I have stripped you naked. You stand before me, fully revealed in your helplessness. 

I’m slower; intentional and more gentle as I stretch you over the desk. I take a few seconds to admire the need and adoration in your eyes, the up and down arch of your breasts as you inhale. I touch a finger to your bottom lip before running my hand all the way down your body in slow, meandering arcs until its resting just on top of your clitoris. “Please.” You beg softly, your mind stripped down to its barest needs. 

I don’t make you say any more. Blissful, molten pleasure floods through every nerve in your body as I press my cock into you. The bliss of being fucked gets more intense, flashes brighter each time I thrust. It flows into the deepest part of your brain like lava. Burning streams of it trickle to the tips of your toes. Your leg starts to shake. I throw it over my shoulder, lean in close to whisper “You are such a good girl, such a needy little slut.” Your trembling gets faster as my hand squeezes around your throat. “And your all fucking mine.” I tell you as an orgasm, the heat of pleasure and light of pain, bursts through your body. You quiver and cum all over my cock like a devoted servant and desperate whore.

[light-speed-saint]

"You're such a sensitive little bunny, its what makes you so fun to play with."

I undress you with slow, almost ritualistic movements; undoing the buttons on your dress one at a time, letting you breathe between them so you can feel my knuckles brush against the skin of your chest and your belly. When its loose enough you feel the warmth of my hand on your shoulder, pushing away the fabric of your dress inch by teasing inch. It billows to the floor around your feet, followed quickly by your bra. You stand before me, only the flimsy lace of your underwear between your tender flesh and my carnivorous desire. Behind you, the iron of the bed frame is cool and unforgiving. Its top bar is about waist high. I tie your wrist to it, wrapping them with soft rope on either side of your body. The insistent desire that  thrums between your thighs gets more intense with each of my slow, deliberate movements. When you are bound, held securely against the cold, immovable metal, I run my thumb along your lower lip and say “Mouth.” 

Your jaw falls open like I have spoken a spell, and I put the ring gag carefully between your teeth, then buckle it under your hair. The words work a different kind of magic when I tell you that “You’re such a good, compliant little bunny.” They send a rush of pleasure out from your pussy into the tips of your fingers and the ends of your toes. But the spell and the ecstasy it brings recede quickly, leave you needy and helpless as I grope your breasts. Rills of desire flow down your spine, making you shiver as my fingers graze over your nipples. My hands flow downwards, following the sinews of your back until they reach your ass. I caress the long curve of your buttocks, and my fingers brush your labia as I strip off your panties. 

With a tap I spread your thighs. A steady hand holds the vibrator where it will torment you the most while the other hand wraps the tape that will keep it in place around your leg. There’s a low buzz and an instant, urgent flow of pleasure when I turn the vibrator on; it makes you tug at your bonds, but they hold fast. 

“Are you ready to suffer for me, little bunny?” I ask and you give the only answer you can, nodding like the needy slut you are. 

“Good girl.” I smile. 

The nipple clamps come first. They send a sudden, bright pain shooting along your nerves, burning into the depth of your brain. I laugh as you moan and thrash, then pull on the chain that now hangs between your breasts. “You’re such a tender little bunny.”  I whisper just loud enough for you to hear over the vibrator, stroking your hair as I torment you. “Its what makes you so pleasing, so much fun to play with.” My praise calls forth another wave of pleasure. You whimper as it mixes with the pain from the clamps. 

Your fingers twitch as the vibrators unrelenting bliss builds in your body. Your toes have started to curl when the first drop of wax falls onto your chest. It’s followed by another, and another; a searing constellation of agonizing stars drips onto your sensitive skin. I don’t make you count the drops, just watch as you lose yourself between the flood of pleasure and the burn of pain. You quiver helplessly, each drip of wax makes you whimper or cry out. I watch your breasts move up and down with each of your desperate breaths, watch the tremors in your legs get more intense. “Is my little bunny going to come?” 

You just nod desperately “Hpplllsss.” You try to force out a plea, but the ring between your teeth makes it into a wet and desperate choke. I pour a long stream of wax onto your chest and smile “Are you trying to beg through the gag? What an adorably pathetic bunny.” Another burning river falls across the skin of your belly. “You’ve been so good, and I’ve been pretty mean. Of course you can come, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with you.” 

Your will gives in, even knowing that more torment is coming. Your hips thrust forward and your eyes roll back as ecstasy floods into your body, an over whelming and irresistible pleasure overtakes you even as more hot, painful wax spills down your breasts.

[light-speed-saint]

The door to Ashley’s building is locked, but I have runes to fix that. I keep a hold of the knob to make sure that it doesn’t slam as I step silently over the threshold. I put my weight slowly on to each of the steps that lead up to Ashley’s apartment, so that their creaking doesn’t betray my presence as I climb. Another quick set of runes undoes the lock on the door to her unit, and lets me slip silently inside. 

The living room is a mess. It has Soft pink walls cast in the unsteady glow of candlelight, with all Ashley’s furniture and belongings shoved against the wall or piled on to her desk, making space for a circle of salt. Within the circle are four candles, one for each cardinal direction. Only three are lit. Ashley is on her knees, setting her lighter to the fourth, the west candle, when she catches sight of me. “Already come to beg for this pussy?” She stands slowly, showing off the way her too small tank-top and the linen of her long skirt cling to her lovely curves. Her eyes sparkle in the half light, luminous with arrogance and triumph as she brags “I hoped you would last a little bit longer, the spell I put on you must be more—” 

Ashley’s words are cut off as I grab her throat, keeping my grip just tight enough to make her fight for each breath. I push her backwards; forcing her into the middle of the ring of salt and flame. She yelps as I spin her around and starts to struggle as I gather her wrists at the small of her back. She fights with a wild and desperate abandon, but I am strong enough that its not even an inconvenience. When she settles down, I wrap the tape, slowly and carefully, around her wrists. Even in the heat of my ire I don’t want to cause any lasting harm. 

Only when she is bound do I let my hands start to explore Ashley’s body. I pull her close so she can feel the solidness of my body against hers, and the slow powerful movement of my sinews when my hand slip under the hem of her tank top. I savour the soft skin of her belly against my fingertips, the supple weight of her breasts in my palms. My thumb passing over her nipple is all it takes to make Ashley squirm and whimper. 

“This will be easier for both of us if you’re a good girl who doesn’t resist.” I whisper into her ear. Ashley believes me. She trembles but sinks compliantly as I guide her onto her knees and then lay her gently on her back, right in the middle of her casting circle. My knife flicks out, its blade flashes orange, red, and silver in the candlelight. I cut slowly through Ashleys tank top, listening to the low tearing sound of the threads like it’s a sonata, then slide her skirt and her panties down from her hips with one smooth motion, feeling her shake as I do. 

Lying naked and bound, Ashley is helpless to stop me from indulging my most animalistic desires. But my stealth and my spells serve a deeper purpose. Ashley’s lip shakes as I touch the point of my knife to her collar bone. I am careful not to draw blood as I let it drift slowly down her chest, letting Ashley feel the bite of steel on her tender skin as I tell her “You tried to put a love spell on me.” 

She doesn’t speak as the knife moves between her breasts. When she finally gathers the courage to say anything Ashley says “I’m sorry, okay! let me go and I’ll—” 

“Do you know how to break a love spell?” I ask, as my knife flows down Ashley’s belly in a lazy zig zag. 

She struggles a little then moans in frustration. “No.” She admits. “I just cast them.” 

“There are two ways.” Ashley’s eyes glitter as I slide my fingers past her lips, into her mouth. “The oldest one is called ‘pricking the witch.’ Essentially you draw blood until all the casters magic is gone.” I stay silent a few seconds, letting Ashley feel my knife against her skin and the pressure of my fingers in her mouth; the swift beating of her heart. I look into her eyes as I flip the blade away. “But I don’t like such messy and outdated methods. There’s a newer, less gory way to handle the situation you’ve put us in.” I pause again, run a hand down from Ashley’s throat. I explore, caressing and groping. Playing with her breasts as she trembles. Then my hand glides down Ashley’s stomach and along the curve of her hip. My fingertips reach the edge of her vulva where I move them up and down in a slow, teasing motion. In a gentle whisper I tell Ashley that “You got us into this predicament, so I am going to let you choose how we get out. What will it be pretty girl? The new way, or the old?” I flash the knife out once more, its edge glinting in the half light. 

“The new.” Ashleys voice is soft and breathy as she begs. “Please please please the new.” 

“I hoped you would say that.” I smile down at my helpless captive. 

I roll Ashley onto her back, taking the opportunity to squeeze possessive fingers into the vulnerable flesh of her ass and pulling the cuffs from my bag before carefully cutting through the tape. The floor is hard, I don’t want my victim injuring herself as she squirms. There are four cuffs, each one connected to a ring of steel by a leather strap. It all forms an X that will hold Ashley in place while I work my spell. Because she is compliant and stays still, I can take my time with the cuffs; making sure that each one will restrain my beautiful captive while allowing for blood flow. When I am satisfied with my work, I turn Ashley on to her back once more. “Now pretty girl, the real fun starts.” I take out the jar of ink and place it on the floor, keeping it within easy reach but far enough away that Ashley won’t knock it over when she struggles. And she will struggle. 

The ink itself is cold and viscus, Ashley shivers when I touch it to her skin. “What are you going to do? Torture me until I recant my spell?” Her voice is defiant, but I can feel Ashley’s heart galloping with fear as I draw a circle over her chest. Within the circle I draw four diagonal lines, adding a fifth horizontal line would complete the star and make a pentagram, but its not yet time for that. Outside the circle at each point of the unfinished star a draw sigil. One each for Hekate, Athena, Aphrodite, Hades, and Dionysus. 

I wipe the excess ink from my fingers onto Ashley’s thigh and take a vibrator from my bag. I set it on low and make a slow circuit around Ashley’s clit as I tell her that “Pain can be a useful tool in magic, but its clumsy and doesn’t suit my purpose.” Ashley shivers as the first sparks of pleasure flash in her nervous system. “You can break people more profoundly using ecstasy.” I say, keeping the vibrator in place but leaning in close to whisper “And I am going to break you, Ashley Jennifer Williams.” The vibrator slides easily into her soaked cunt. “You’re so wet pretty girl. You’re not enjoying this are you?” 

The embers of pleasure burning in Ashley’s brain keep her from answering. She just lies there, chest heaving and mouth open. She can’t do anything but squirm. As the sensation of being fucked gets more intense the unfocused gleam in her eyes tells me all that I need to know. I stand up, placing my foot on Ashley’s stomach, above the vibrator but below the pentagram. I look down, taking in the whole image of her beautiful helplessness as I tell Ashley “Before I let you come you are going to tell me, tell the world, what a pathetic little whore you are. You’re going to tell us that your purpose, your only purpose, is to serve [Light Speed Saint]. That you exist to be my little fuck doll. That I own you body, mind, and soul. Do you understand?” 

“That’s not fair.” Ashley complains. “You can’t expect—” She recovers her bravery only until I use my phone to turn up the intensity of the vibrator and melt her thoughts away. She lies bound beneath my feet as bliss illuminates every nerve fibre. It shines out from between her thighs to reach the tips of her toes and depths of her brain. Just when an orgasm is ready to flash through her body like wildfire, I take it all away. 

Ashley can do nothing but moan petulantly. “I’m sorry okay.” She whines, pulling at her restraints. “I didn’t mean to—” 

I turn the power of the vibrator back up. The sudden shock of pleasure catches Ashley off guard; leaves her jaw gaping. “You know what you have to say.” I watch the helpless little twitches she makes as the pleasure builds again. Her toes curl and uncurl. Her leg shakes as her desperation grows. “Fuck” Ahsley squeaks “Fuck fuck fuck.” 

Ashley’s quivers get quicker and deeper as the heat of her need rises. I pull her back from the edge. She whimpers, all her defiance is gone, in its place is a helpless and animalistic desire. I crouch beside her, keeping my touch soft as my hand moves up and down her body. Instead of turning the power of the vibrator back up, I tease her nipples. Sending small, targeted jolts of stimulation instead of a shock of pleasure. “You’re fighting so hard.” I observe. “But you know how good it would feel to give in. Think of it. Bliss exploding through your body like a fire work. All your heavy, cumbersome thoughts disappearing in a rain of glorious sparkle. You’d be a little slave doll, free of worry and strife.” 

“I won’t.” Ashley manages to gasp. “I can’t—" She’s cut off by her own whimper as I turn the vibrator back up. “I can’t- I- I- I’m a pathetic little whore. My only purpose is to serve [Light Speed Saint]. I exist to be his, to be your, good little fuck doll. Your obedient little toy. I surrender my body, my mind, my soul to [Light Speed Saint].” 

At long last I turn the vibrator to high and leave it there. Ashley’s stomach moves up and down like waves on the sea. The quivers in her legs spread to her whole body, and her jaw hangs open as she gives a high, lilting moan. Bliss flashes like lightning; burns through every synapse in her body. The heat and light of ecstasy evaporate her thoughts and her words, leave Ashley in a pleasant daze of submission, just as I promised. 

I don’t turn down the intensity of the vibrator right away, so the pleasure is still burning; keeping Ashley a twitching, whimpering mess as I draw the last line of the pentagram and accept her surrender. “Hear O spirits.” I command. “Hear that I claim this girl, Ashley Jennifer Williams. With the power of Athena, I claim her mind. With the power of Aphrodite, I claim her body.” I watch the steady up and down movements of my new slave girl’s breasts and the steady sparkle in her eyes and say “With the power of Hekate, I claim her soul.” Ashley doesn’t say anything, just whimpers and arches her back; the flame of pleasure growing under my spell. 

Ashley moans softly as I pull the vibrator from her pussy. Her eyes are bright but empty, shining with the last embers of her thoughts. I undo the cuffs on her ankles, bring Ashley up to her knees. I brush stray hairs from her face as she smiles up at me in peaceful adoration. I run my fingers through her hair and ask “Are you ready to worship your master, like a good fuck doll?” 

“Yes master.” She says softly “please let me worship you.” 

I touch Ashley’s lip as I instruct her to “Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” She obeys with out thinking, parting her lips to let her tongue slide out. I keep her this way for a few seconds; a naked, mind broken whore, offering her mouth for my use. I open the fly on my jeans, revealing my cock, and grab Ashley by the back of her head. I run her tongue back and forth along the sides of my cock before I use her to make a single long lick along the bottom, from the base all the way to the tip. 

I plunge into Ashley’s mouth, fucking it slowly for the first few strokes. Savouring the warmth and wetness and submission. But pleasure lights in me as well. The soft mmph mmph mmph of her gags get louder and their rhythm faster as I quicken my pace. The pleasure of my slave doll’s body builds. Its most intense at the tip of my cock but radiates out, reaching my extremities. Soon my nervous system flashes with it. My hot cum spills onto Ashley’s tongue and I withdraw. 

For a few seconds I close my eyes and let myself float. The world and its cares have been banished to some unreachable and intangible place. I know that they will return. I open my eyes to look down at Ashley again, just as she says “Thank you, master.” A little of my cum spills on to her now irrevocably peaceful smile, and I cannot help wondering who got the best of my spell.

[light-speed-saint]

You are not a good girl, you are my good girl

My fingertips, little points of pressure between your breasts, are all that it takes to push you against the wall and hold you there like a pin through your heart. You stand unbound but helpless as my eyes move up and down, all along the curves of your body. Something ignites, a small flickering tingle between your thighs, when I say “What a pretty girl you are. And all mine to play with.” There’s a moment and a few silent breaths between us before I order you to “Be a good little slut and undress.” 

Your hands move before my words have registered in your mind, instinctively peeling away your shirt and rolling your jeans down your hips. You unhook your bra; letting it slide down your body until it drops to the floor. You know what’s coming; the pain I am going to inflict, the degrading acts I will make you perform for my pleasure, but still you cannot stop. You feel a deep atavistic need to hear me call you “Good girl.”  Your thumbs hook into the hem of your panties and you hesitate, not consciously, you wouldn’t dare to defy my command in that way. But the realization that you will be naked, totally exposed to the implements of torture arrayed on the wall, sends a cold bolt of fear into your heart. “What’s the matter pretty girl?” I ask smiling like a wolf and knowing just what the matter is. “Are you going to be a defiant little brat and make me punish you? Because that might be fun too.” My hand, slow and gentle but menacing brushes the curve of your breast as the interrogation continues. 

You shake your head and slide your panties down. Its not fear of pain that makes you obey, but the thought of my disapproval, of not being my good girl, that fills you with a cold and heavy dread. So you obediently roll your underwear slowly down your legs and reveal yourself to me knowing what I will do with your body. Right now, my thumb is gliding along your lower lip. It slides into your mouth as my other hand squeezes and gropes its way across your chest, finding all the spots that make you whimper and tremble. 

With my thumb still probing the softness of your mouth I tighten my grip on your chin and lower you, inch by inch, to your knees. Its still wet with saliva when it brushes your ear as I stroke your hair. I smile, looking into your sparkling eyes and whisper “You are such a hauntingly beautiful little whore. I cannot wait to see you suffer.” 

There’s another heavy pause as I take in the glory of your pathetic and overwhelming need to please; watching the little heaves of your breasts with each frightened breath, the way your fingers rest so delicately on your thighs as you kneel stripped bare before me. After a few seconds, I finally command you to “be a sweet little whore and fetch me the strap. On your hands and knees.” 

My words work like magic. Your body starts crawling across the room, towards the toys at the opposite end, of its own volition. Humiliation burns on your cheeks but throbs in your pussy. You know I am watching, seeing your soaked cunt flash from between your thighs as you crawl, debasing yourself just to earn my praise. It only makes the lust and need and embarrassment run even deeper. 

When you reach the far wall where the strap hangs, you find it suspended a few feet above the ground; making you get up onto your knees, showing off the length of your spine, the curve of your hips and the exquisite arc of your ass, to get it down. It takes a few clumsy tries for you to get the strap into your mouth, giving me ample time to admire your vulnerable body and plan your torment.

Once you finally get it in and turn back to me, I only point to the bed and order you to “Bend over the mattress.” You know that pain is coming, but your addiction to praise makes you obey. 

You can hear each of my footsteps as I approach. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of waiting, I stand above you. My hand runs up and down your thigh, fingers occasionally squeezing into your buttocks. “What a beautiful ass.” I give some of the praise you’ve debased yourself for. “What a sweet, compliant little whore.” I cast my shadow over you as I take the paddle from your mouth. A rush of pleasure flows up your spine. Making you quiver as my fingers graze the lips of your pussy. They linger; moving slowly up and down. You know what’s happening, I’m lowering your guard, using pleasure to make your body all the more vulnerable to my torment. But you have no power to resist, letting yourself sink into the pleasure that comes trickling out from between your thighs. 

The leather of the strap cracks like lightning, and the pain of the first strike burns on your ass. I leave it to smoulder as I resume my teasing. Letting pleasure flow back into your brain and body  until you are once again defenceless. Only then does the second blow fall, harder and hotter than the first. Its followed quickly by a third. The clear bright pain is enough to make you cry out. “Look at you, pretty girl.” You can hear the sadism in my voice as my fingers slide inside you. I Find just the right spot to make your legs shake and stroke it in a slow and gentle rhythm. You tremble as the bliss floods into you and give a complaining moan when my fingers pull away. I don’t even give you time to breathe before strikes four five six seven eight fall across your ass, just above your thighs. These don’t burn the way the others do. The pain is deeper:  a smouldering throb that will last for days, reminding you who you belong to each time you sit. I don’t balance this with pleasure. I move between it and the higher parts of your ass, and spank until your skin glows pink then red. The blue and purple of bruises that will mark you as mine bloom on the lower part of your buttocks. 

“Please sir.” You beg. “Please mercy. I can’t… I can’t take any more.” 

I lay the paddle on the bed, just close enough that you can still feel the leather touching your skin. “You have been very obedient, haven’t you?”  My hand slides slowly down your thigh, spreading your legs with a gentle touch. 

“Yes. Yes, sir. I’ve been so good. I’ve done everything you told me. I’ve been such a good slut for you. I—” 

Your words are cut off by a moan as I press my cock inside you. “You are not just a good girl. You are my good girl.” I whisper, pushing it deep. Making you take the full length into your eager body. My hand clamps onto the back of your neck, holding you in place as I fuck you. You twitch helpless and needy beneath me before starting to quiver; moaning and whimpering as the pleasure turns from a gentle stream to an irresistible torrent. I look down at you with a smile. “You’re such a sweet girl. A beautiful and obedient slut just for me to play with.”  I push my thumb into your mouth once more as I give the praise that has bound you to my commands. “Now be a good girl and come for me.”

The praise and the pleasure and the need are all too much. Every synapse in your body is flooded with bliss. Everything but pleasure is washed away as you fall into ecstasy; my good, perfect whore.