light-speed-saint

[light-speed-saint]

Breaking a defiant bunny

It happens faster than you’re ready for. One of my arms wraps around the bottom of your ribs and pulls you close, the other gains control of your wrists while your still off balance. You can’t do anything but gasp and struggle pathetically as you’re overpowered. Even as you try and squirm free you feel my lips on the skin of your neck, kissing softly, then my teeth on your ear, not biting down but grazing over the cartilage with predatory intent. “You’re caught, little bunny.” I whisper. “But if you’re good and obedient nothing bad will happen.” 

You answer by thrashing defiantly. 

“So, its going to be that way is it, bunny?” I ask.

“Let me go!” You demand, still struggling like it will do anything. 

I just sigh and shove you against the wall. I don’t slam you in a way that would bruise your flesh or leave your head swimming. My movements are quick and irresistible, but they are controlled. They leave you panting and disoriented, but intact, as I tie your hands behind your back. As suddenly as you were put there, your pulled away from the wall. I spin you around to face me, so that you have to look into my eyes as I push you, stumbling, back against the wall. I hold you there, with one hand around your throat while the other runs up and down your body; caressing the curve of your buttocks and cradling your breasts.  You try to keep your gaze steely as my hand gropes at the most tender parts of you, but between your thighs your treacherous pussy starts its insistent thrumming. You cannot contain a whimper as my touch traces down the inside of your hip and flows along your thigh.  It comes back up skirting around your vulva, just close enough to feel the needy heat from your pussy. 

I’m half smiling as I growl “Did you really think you could tease all day with no consequences, little bunny?” 

You try to deny it, assert “I’m not teasing” In the most determined voice that you have. But as my fingers travel along the line of your swimsuit bottoms to the knot at your hip you breathe a long, desperate gasp into my ear. My hand continues, traveling upward to a matching tie between your breasts.  My smile is bright and cruel, like a blade in the moon light when I ask “So, you wore this slutty little bikini for some other reason?” My hands slide under the fabric of your swimsuit top. You look me in the eye, trying to maintain your defiance even as your cunt pulses with need and your nipples harden at my touch. But I can see that my needy bunny is starting to break.

Your heartbeat quickens as I undo the knot that holds your bikini top together. I use the anticipation like a weapon, run my agonizingly slow hand from your collar bone all the way down the string of your swimsuit to brush the fabric away and expose your breasts. The pressure of my grip comes off your throat, and you whimper again as I tease gently at your nipples. You try to hold on to your pride and rebellion but cannot stop your mind from sinking into the growing pleasure of my touch. After only a few seconds you give in and allow yourself to drift. With no warning I squeeze, sending sharp pain blooming through your chest. I squeeze harder, pulling your breasts upward to make the sudden agony more intense; make it reach deeper until you give a lilting, anguished moan. 

I let go, and the pain fades just as quickly as it came. My fingers slide between your parted lips and into the welcoming softness of your mouth. With this strange hold I lower you to your knees. “Oh, was that all it took to make my little bunny compliant? You get roughed up and teased a little bit, and all your brattiness just melts away?” 

You cannot speak with my fingers sliding in and out of your eager mouth, but even if you could the desperate pulse of your pussy would make it impossible to form a sentence. With my fingers deep in your mouth I tell you that “Of course, I will still have to punish you for being a teasing slut. But after that maybe we can have some fun.” 

It’s hard to know if you are nodding, or if I am moving your head, but either way you offer no resistance. You wait, kneeling and compliant; watching as I take out the flogger and sling it over my shoulder. I give myself a few seconds to take in the sight of my bunny, with her tits pulled from her bikini top and fear glittering in her eyes, as she waits to be broken. The first lashes fall across your breasts and your sternum. The leather tresses of the flogger snap like rain drops in a storm; leave a sting on the surface of your skin, but with each lash it sinks deeper and deeper. Each strike of the flogger moves the air as I punish you, it blows in your hair and makes the useless fabric that was once your swimsuit flap helplessly between your breasts, a flag of surrender caught in a tempest. You whimper again, louder and more pathetically, but your punishment continues. 

I move lower. Listen to you gasp and moan as the agony spreads to your thighs and your belly. With each impact of the flogger bright, white hot pain flashes through your brain. In its wake smoke and ash are all that remains of your bratty defiance. You are left with only the sting on your skin and desperate throb of your cunt. “This ends when you say sorry, pretty bunny.” I tell you as you squirm in agony. “When you say sorry and promise to be a good bunny for me.”  

The blows fall faster and harder now, flashes of pain burst through your body like lightning, breaking the last vestiges of your will. “I’m...” You stammer. “I’m sorry, sir. For teasing...” Your punishment continues, and its stinging heat on your skin makes it hard to think. “I just... I wanted... I needed your cock, sir. I’m sorry. Please, I’ll be a good bunny for you I promise. I’ll do... anything. I’ll be so sweet. Please please. I can’t... I can’t take it, sir. Its...the pain,sir...its too much.”   

The punishment stops the moment you meet the conditions I set out, but the pain lingers on your skin as I cradle your head in my hands. Your eyes sparkle, like sunlight on water, as I tilt your head to look up at me, ask “You want to be my good bunny? To please me? 

Your voice shakes as you answer “Yes, sir. Please let me be your good bunny, sir.” 

I take another, longer moment to just admire you; to look down at my once willful bunny gone all soft and needy, before I order you to “Beg. Beg to suck my cock like the pathetic whore that you are.”   

You can still feel the pain on your skin and the desire pulsing between your thighs as you start pleading. Without hesitation you implore me to “Please, please let me suck your cock, sir. Let me be your pathetic whore, let me be your pleasing bunny. Fuck my throat, sir. Please.” 

You shiver as the cold steel of the chain wraps around your throat, but I command you to “Keep going.”   

“I can make you feel so good, sir. I promise. I’ll show you. Show you what I… what a good bunny I can be. I—” Your desperate grovelling is cut off as I pull your leash, lift your face into my crotch. You gaze with bright, empty eyes as I pull out my cock, let it rest just inches from your face. “Keep fucking begging, little bunny.” I order. 

Your lips are millimeters away, grazing against the tip as you plead. “I can make you feel so good, sir. I promise. I’ll take it all, I’ll... Please let me worship you, sir. You know how much I—” 

“Stop talking, but keep that pretty mouth open.” I command. Without a thought your jaw falls open, and your tongue rolls out. I take a final, lingering pause to look at my bunny, broken and waiting eagerly for me to fuck her face. I keep tension on the leash, using my free hand to steady your head as my cock slides into your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow and controlled, almost gentle. I move slowly back and forth through the seal of your lips. But my pleasure grows with each one. So the strokes come faster, fill more of your mouth. Soon they reach deep enough to make you gag.   

Your mind is quiet as I use your body. You know only the lingering burn of the flogging, the partially satiated pulse between your thighs, and the feeling of your face being fucked. You are at peace when you feel my fingers start to stiffen, then the muscles of my thighs. I thrust deep, filling your mouth and letting my cock stay there for a few beats. Then I withdraw slowly, savouring the pleasure of my bunny’s mouth. After a few more of these deep, luxurious strokes of my cock I exhale a long breath of satisfaction as pleasure flashes through my whole body all at once, up the length of my spine and in the depths of my brain. I pull your head back, watch my cum dripping from your lips, and smile down at you. “There’s a good bunny.” I finally say.

[light-speed-saint]

“Come here. Crawl to me, like a good whore.”

Something from deep within your psyche screams. Demanding that you show some self respect, prove that you are more than just a toy to be ordered about and used. The defiance spreads; with every heart beat you gather the strength that you will need to defy my commands and face the punishment. But as soon as I tell you to “Be a good girl and undress for me.” your treasonous pussy starts to thrum. It sends echoes of desperation ringing along your nerves, making your hands move before you have a chance to stop them. They undo two of the buttons on your blouse before you realize what’s happening. The voice of pride tries to rally, to remind you that its your body, and you are in control. But it has become less than a whisper, drowned out by the desperate, pulsing song coming from between your thighs.

You can see my eyes, lingering with domineering hunger as you take off your blouse and let it drift down to the floor. Unbidden, your hands move to your hips, unzipping your skirt. You roll it down, but the fabric is still tight enough that you have to wriggle to get out, adding to the show you put on for my enjoyment. As you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, your hands start shaking. You cannot tell if its apprehension at revealing a secret and tender part of your body, or excitement at being fucked that makes you tremble. In truth, fear and desire may no longer be separate emotions.

You let your bra slide down to reveal your breasts, and find yourself suddenly conscious of the way that your chest heaves every time you inhale. You don’t hook your thumbs into your panties, they just go there and begin to roll the fabric down your hips. Only when I tell you to “Stop.” do you realize what’s happening. Instantly and instinctively, your hands freeze at my command; your whole body tenses, awaiting my next order. I don’t give it right away. For a few seconds I savour the way that you, that your flesh and nerves and your whole body long to obey. The rhythmic pulse of need from your pussy turns my words into witchcraft that overrides your will. Finally, I tell you to “Turn around, show me that ass while you strip.” The spell works, and before you know what’s happening you’re facing the wall. You almost feel my eyes running up your backside as you slide your panties down your legs. I let you step out of them before ordering you to “Face me.” My gaze, shining with carnivorous desire, rolls up and down your naked body. You draw a long, shuddering breath, heart beating a fast and steady rhythm of fear. Your cunt throbs the slow, relentless beat of needy lust as I look you over. After a few drawn out seconds I order you to “Come here. Crawl to me, like a good whore.”

Your mind is quiet as you sink to your knees. Even the defiant voice that called you to rebellion has surrendered. Your body crawls forward with slow, sexy movements displaying your animal lust and needy compliance. You are little more than a passenger, carried along by flesh that heeds no command but mine. You’re almost at my feet when I tell you to “Stop.” and order “Head down.” Compelled by the dark magic of my voice, you lower your shoulders and lift your hips in sensual obeisance. You cannot see very much with your head against the carpet, but the slow pace of my footsteps as I circle you make it clear that I am assessing your surrendered body; whether the most intimate parts of you are fit to use for my pleasure. You can also hear something soft tapping gently against my leg, a whispered promise of the pain I will inflict. Even knowing that you will suffer, you cannot find the power to move the body that no longer seems to belong to you.

I stop, and the first stinging impact of the flogger falls across the vulnerable skin of your proffered ass. The next one follows quickly, and another after that. The pain builds, an agonizing heat that calls you back to your body. You have no power to defy me but still feel the clear, bright pain of every lash. Each blow is a flash of lightning on your skin, but some reach deeper, below the surface to leave a smouldering bruise that you will carry for days. The storm of the tresses upon your ass does not relent. Pain joins the need in your body; burning, drowning, erasing your thoughts. You whimper in your suffering, feel yourself twitching in an effort to mitigate the torment. Every time you exhale, its a little closer to being a sob. You never think them, but the words “Please, sir. Please Mercy.” fall past your lips.

The painful storm of the flogger abates, and I circle around to the front of you. My fingers lace through your hair and, with a long, steady pull I lift your head from the floor. You look at me with pleading eyes as I ask “Does my little whore need a break?” In a patronizing voice.

“Yes. Please, sir.” You beg abjectly. “Please. I can’t take—”

“But torturing you is so much fun.” I smile wickedly “Why would I want to stop?”

“Be...because...” You stammer “I... I’ve been so good. I did everything you told me. I took off my clothes, for you, sir. I stripped for you; I crawled like a good little whore. I—”

“And if I stop the pain you’ll do whatever it takes to please me?” I ask, pressing my thumb past your lips, into the warmth of your mouth. Your head moves up and down, whether you’re nodding voluntarily or just following the motion of my arm, you do not know. “There’s a good girl.” I say in answer to your silent surrender.

The leather of the collar is soft, and strangely comforting, against the skin of your throat. The cold steel of the chain rattles softly as I guide you to the bed. You remain on all fours, walked like some beautiful and obliging pet, until I lift you to your feet. Faster than you can think I bend you to the mattress and spread your legs. You gasp as my cock presses into your body. With each thrust there is a rush and burst of pleasure. I pull the leash tight and make you take me as deep as you can, listening to your needy, ecstatic moans as the pleasure you have stripped and crawled and grovelled for comes flooding in. You whimper and squirm, feeling my hand around your neck and my cock stretching your desperate pussy. With a long moan of atavistic release you come like a whore all over my cock.

[light-speed-saint]

How to make a Demon Whore

Jenni is undeniably cute in her pressed white shirt and pleated kilt as I tell her “Its not that you’re unwelcome here.” At the top of her chest, just below the graceful line of her collar bones, is a shining black name tag with white letters declaring Jenni to be Sister Robinson of the New Century Reformed Church. “Its just that I don’t think I could attend Church in good faith.” 

“Why not?” The blond waves of Jenni’s hair shift over her shoulders as she tilts her head with curiosity. 

I sigh, I don’t want to be needlessly harsh with Jenni, who is sheltered and innocent, but she has asked a direct question. “Because I’ve never seen evidence for a benevolent, omnipotent, creator god.” 

“Its not supposed to be about the evidence of your eyes and ears.” Jenni’s eyes sparkle with pious zeal, even as she chides me. “It supposed to be about faith.” 

I sigh. “But that’s the thing, I’ve never seen that faith over come my magic.” 

I can see the hope swelling in Jenni as she asks “And if it did?” 

“I mean, yeah... if prayers over came my strongest spells then, I might go to Church. Just to see what its about—” 

“Great!” Jenni beams. “Cast it on me, and I’ll show you the strength of the lord.” 

I laugh but try not to be derisive. “Its... well its more complicated than that.” 

“How?” Jenni demands with adorable determination. 

“Its.... well it’s a love spell of sorts. If it works you would be...” I pause to think. “Your will and your desire would be bent to serve me. Your mind would be empty, waiting for my command. You would be mine.” 

“Oh...” For a second Jenni seems daunted. But something inside of her, it might be faith, but it could just as easily be desire or curiosity, rallies and she tells me that “I know the Lord will protect me from the might of the unfaithful.” 

I take a moment to breathe, to sit with my thoughts and make sure that I have done nothing to force or manipulate Jenni into this position. But I haven’t. She wants to put the Lord her God to the test, and I cannot pretend I’m not interested in the results. 

---           ---           ---          

With shaking hands, Jenni reaches for the top button of her pressed white shirt. Her fingers fumble, so it takes a few tries before it comes undone. But its followed by another, and then another after that, until she can slide the fabric down her shoulders. She swallows hard, bends at the knees just a little, and slides her skirt down her legs. It takes a few seconds, but Jenni gathers the courage to peel away her tank top and strip away her bra.   

She asks “Do I have to do this?” standing before me, clad only in her ballet flats and cute floral underwear. Her gleaming shirt, her black kilt, her cotton tank top, and her bra all lie strewn around her feet like the discarded armour of a defeated warrior. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” I tell her as my eyes roll up from her feet taking in every curve and shadow. “You’re free to get dressed and walk out the door, pretending this never happened. My spell will remain undefeated but your chastity will be unblemished.”   

Jenni doesn’t answer. She just gives a shuddering sigh of determination and rolls her underwear down her hips and then her thighs. Jenni steps free of her panties with small, delicate movements to stand completely naked and revealed before me. “Hands above your head.” I give Jenni my first command as I get to my feet. She obeys slowly, but not reluctantly. If she feels any fear its not enough to make her tremble as I shackle her hands to the brick wall. Jenni exhales a fortifying breath. Her eyes are bright with defiance as she tells me “Even bound by the chains of the enemy, I shall prove my god the stronger.” 

---           ---           --- 

The ink is cold on my fingertips. Jenni shivers as I smear it over her skin. I draw a circle, fingertips running over the solid bone of her sternum and supple warmth of her exposed breasts. Her breathing is ragged, and Jenni’s heart beats a staccato rhythm as I right the words of the spell inside the circle. It’s a little bit hard to stay focused. My eyes fall toward Jenni’s nipples as they harden; the curve of her hips as she starts to struggle. Every time she inhales, Jenni’s magnificent breasts rise to press themselves against my skin. I write the Sigil of Hekate in the middle of the circle. The long smooth strokes of cool ink send a frisson down Jenni’s spine, making her whole body tremble, but I can still feel the panicked, rabbit rhythm of her heart as I finish the last curving line of the sigil. 

I step back, take a minute to let my eyes run over Jenni’s helpless body. The way her wrists cross delicately in the shackles, and her fingers curl and twitch. My gaze flows down, over the rolling heave of her breasts savouring the cherry pink of her nipples on the pale cream of her skin. My fingers graze along the curve of her hips, making my pretty little victim whimper. I feel her quivering as my touch drifts slowly towards her cunt. She squirms and gasps as I trace along the edge of her vulva before stepping away to start the incantation. 

I speak in a normal voice and look into Jenni’s eyes as I tell her and any gathered spirits that “I claim this girl, Jenni. I cast a shadow over her mind, and chain around her heart. I dissolve her will and bind her desire to mine.” 

Jenni’s eyes light up with fear. As the incantation takes effect tendrils of ink reach into her body. They wrap around her beating heart and flow along with her blood vessels. Keen and menacing, they reach into the deepest parts of her mind. She shakes with fear as cold rivers of shadow reach into the very tips of her toes. I stroke Jenni’s hair, tell her that “I know its scary pretty girl, all that icy, sharp magic running through your body, finding your deepest places. But I know how to make you feel better.” 

I start the vibrator on a low setting, let its soft hum fill the dungeon. I take it in an arch around Jenni’s vulva, kindling the first embers of pleasure. I make another arc, a little closer but still not touching Jenni’s needy pussy. When she finally feels it against the most sensitive part of her body, Jenni moans pathetically into my ear. I tease her, moving the vibrator up and down, letting a gentle pleasure glow through her body. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” I ask before warning “but remember what happens when you give in.” Jenni doesn’t answer, just lets her jaw hang open in wordless exultation. Inside her the sharp and icy strands of dark magic become warm and soft, welcoming ribbons that encircle every part of her. Wrapped around her neurons they welcome her dissolving thoughts into their gentle heat. Around Jenni’s heart they embrace each beat and match the throb between her thighs. With every pulse of it they tell her whole body that the desire and the pleasure are okay, that she can accept this deep and soft and urgent need without fear. 

“Oh lord. Lord, please give me strength.” Jenni prays with a halting, shaky voice. “Give me…give me strength to resist this temptation...” Her voice fades into a quivering, ecstatic moan. 

“Is it strength you want?” I ask, running my thumb along Jenni’s lower lip. “The strength to live a life of chaste obedience with no reward?” 

As I finally slide the vibrator inside her, Jenni’s shaking gets more intense. She is barely clinging to control while I work it slowly back and forth, making the pleasure burn with powerful, unrelenting heat; the last of Jenni’s will evaporates and the strands of magic laced through her body and her brain become searing ribbons of need. “I would rule you, too. But I can show you magnificent pleasures. Sensations you didn’t think you could experience. Didn’t know your body was capable of. All I need is your abject, and unconditional surrender.”  

Jenni keeps trembling. Her toes curl and her head falls onto my shoulder. I hold the vibrator inside, let a nova of ecstasy burst through her. Jenni’s whole body shakes as she begs “Please…I surrender. Please I… I need it.” Jenni’s jaw hangs open and her chains rattle as her pious will breaks and she gives herself to me. 

---           ---           --- 

Jenni is naked; chained at the wrists as I lead her across the dungeon. Away from the wall and towards the bed. She is still in her peaceful, post orgasmic fog as she walks over the clothing she stripped off. With a gentle touch on the hips, I turn Jenni around and guide her to sit on the edge of the bed. I lift Jenni’s bound hands above her head, so I can grope and fondle her breasts. I do it without pretense; it serves no purpose of other than allowing me to feel the warmth and softness of her helpless flesh. Jenni just looks up at me with her sparkling doe eyes as I use her body how ever I see fit.    

When I am satisfied with groping her breasts, I stretch Jenni over the mattress. My touch travels down the length of her thigh as I spread her legs. The soft, dazed moans Jenni gives as I run my finger up her labia and towards her clit are barely audible, but they tell me of her absolute capitulation. I cannot help but smile as I say “Now that you’ve given in to my spell, offered yourself to me, the question becomes whether or not you’re worthy.” 

Jenni manages to moan “Please..” softly from the mattress. 

“Please what, pretty girl?” 

“Please... Let me... I can...” 

Jenni’s thoughts come slowly out of her bliss-clouded mind. I decide to give her some help. “You want to be worthy?” I smile. 

“Yes.” She gasps. “Yes please.” 

“I’ll make it easy for you, then.” I tell Jenni, and let my fingers make gentle circles over her clitoris. Give my slave a warm and steady feed of pleasure. “All you have to do is beg. Plead with me to be my little demon whore, and I’ll accept you.” 

“Please.” Jenni begins “Please can I be you’re demon whore. I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything you say. Please, master. Please.” Jenni grovels with out hesitation or pride. She pleads from pure desperation, primal atavistic need. She only stops when my cock slides in, stretching her innocent little cunt and sending a blaze of pleasure through her body. She whimpers with each stroke as the pleasure gets hotter and brighter. I lift Jenni’s leg onto my shoulder, so she can take me even deeper. With a long shuddering gasp Jenni, my little demon whore, comes for the second time, all over her masters cock.

[light-speed-saint]

Was slit-throat, rot-topic, ofbonesandlace, etc. please reblog to help me find my moots again :c Also if you have any of my photos or etc. please send them or tag me.

[light-speed-saint]

Reblog this to ease the back pain of the person you reblogged it from

[light-speed-saint]

“I am going to punish this beautiful ass, and while I do, you’re going to beg to be used. Do you understand?” 

I pin Penny against the wall, gathering her hands at the small of her back. She struggles, fighting hard against my grip, but its futile. She’s still fighting as my hand impact the flesh of her ass; hard enough to send a cracking echo through the room. The pain makes her whine pathetically. My fingers squeeze into her buttocks as my teeth graze sharply over her ear. “Why are you fighting so hard, pretty girl?” I whisper. “We both know you’re not strong enough to stop me from taking whatever I want.” My free hand slides under the hem of Penny’s tank top, fabric gathers around my wrist as it travels up Penny’s stomach to expose and grope her breasts. She squirms, whimpering indignantly at my control over her body, but I can feel her nipples harden as my fingers fondle and tease. 

“This is making you wet, isn’t it?” I ask as my hand drifts back down the smooth skin of Penny’s belly. It slides past her hips and under the hem of her panties, before my fingers slip easily into the warm, welcoming softness of Penny’s cunt. Her mouth falls open, and Penny gives a moan of wild, primordial pleasure. She doesn’t stop, but the nature of Penny’s struggling changes. She no longer tries to break free of my grasp as my fingers curl and uncurl inside of her, instead she presses her hips forward trying to draw the source of irresistible bliss further into her body. I kiss the back of Penny’s neck and smile. “I knew you were getting wet. Because I know you love to be used.” 

Penny doesn’t answer, just moans and writhes like the desperate whore that she is, until my hand once again impacts her ass. The sudden, sharp pain makes her yelp and whimper. I command Penny to “Say it, slut.” 

“Mmm, yes. Fuck.” She stammers “Fuck. I love when you use me, sir.” 

“Good girl.” I smile and fling Penny across the bed. She lands supine, with her tank top pushed up to reveal her tits, and her panties around her thighs, leaving her pussy wet, glistening, and exposed. With a few rough motions I remove all of her clothing, strip Penny of even the pathetic protection that it offered. Then I roll her onto her stomach and lift her hips into the air before commanding her to “Stay.” While I get the strap. 

I stand above Penny, leather strap in hand, and let my gaze roll over her body. I can see from her eyes that she is frightened, and from the way the lips of her pussy shine I know that she wants to be fucked. Despite the fear and desire, Penny has obeyed my order, stayed exactly where I put her. I run a gentle hand along the smooth curve of her buttocks, savouring the feeling of her soft, perfect skin in the moments before her torment begins. I tell Penny “I am going to punish this beautiful ass, and while I do, you’re going to beg to be used. Do you understand?” 

“Yes. Yes, sir. I—” 

I don’t let Penny finish her sentence, striking the leather over her buttocks and listening to her agonized screams. I do it again and again, bringing a storm of burning pain down onto Penny’s tender flesh. Her skin glows a livid pink; pain flashes through her body and smoulders on Penny’s buttocks. I pause, give my needy little toy a chance to gather herself so she can plead “Fuck me, sir. Use me, please. I can make your cock feel so good. I can—” The strap falls over her ass once again, and Penny gives a lilting moan. I strike with slower, but more intense blows and Penny’s fingers grip the sheets to keep the pain from becoming overwhelming. “Keep begging pretty girl.” I remind her. “That’s the only way this stops.” 

“Pleeease.” The word is half a sob. “Please use me, sir. Use my pussy.  My mouth. Any part of me. Please. Its all yours, you own it. You own me. Please Ple—” 

Penny is cut off, again. But this time its different. She gasps and mewls with pleasure as my cock slides in. The joy of being fucked flows through her body reaching from her pussy to the tips of her toes. She arches her back, starts to shake. I slow down to make a few deep, intentional strokes, so that each one provides and identifiable rush of bliss as I ask “Are you going to come for me?” 

Penny, caught between agony and exaltation, can only find one word. “Please.” She squeaks. 

“Do it.” I command. “Show me how good it feels when I take what I want.” 

I fuck Penny faster again, and the flow of pleasure becomes a torrent that floods every nerve in her helpless body. I feel her, quivering and twitching, as she is overwhelmed.

[light-speed-saint]

“That’s right pretty girl. Fucking squirm for me. Squirm like a good whore. Show me how sexy you are when you’re in pain.

You look beautiful; stripped naked and shackled against the wall of the dungeon. I watch you struggle pathetically, trying to loosen your bonds but succeeding only in rattling your chains and showing off your body. You can’t see anything, so the sensation of my fingertips brushing against your cheek catches you off guard and sends a jolt of fear down your spine. “Its okay pretty girl.” I offer words of comfort as my fingers keep travelling down the gentle slope of your neck and across your clavicle. You whimper as they trace along the arc of your breasts, brushing against your nipple and sending a rill of pleasure flowing through your body as I tell you that “If you’re good and obedient, I won’t have to hurt you too much.” My fingers keep going; down your stomach and around your hip. They squeeze the flesh of your ass like a ripe fruit. “But if you can’t be good, I have ways to make you comply.” I warn before asking “Do you understand?” as my fingers drift lower, moving around the back of your thigh to tease at your labia. 

The fear and the knowledge of the pain that I can inflict on your helpless body make your heart beat fast and jagged. But the pleasure of my gentle caress at the edge of your pussy flows hot and thick through your body. You can’t even think to answer my promises or my warning. Your thoughts are melting like chocolate in the microwave, fear and desperate need filling your brain. You just barely manage to find your words and whisper “Yes, sir.” 

I pull my hand away, and you give a petulant whine as the ephemeral pleasure fades from your body. You hear a soft, sucking pop somewhere in the darkness then the small clattering racket of something plastic falling to the dungeon floor. You can feel yourself trembling, anticipating the terrible and unknown pain you will endure for my enjoyment. Its almost a relief when the cold, waxy hardness of the lipstick moves over your cheek. 

I write with slow, caring strokes so that you can feel the down-up-down-up of the letter W and the down-across-down of and H. It takes no more than a soft tap on your chin to open your mouth. You can’t see the lipstick, but your mind’s eye pictures a gaudy ring of vivid crimson around your mouth forming the letter O. Before I finish the word you feel my touch on your breasts once again. This time its more possessive, groping and squeezing as I mark you with the down-loop-diagonal of an R and the down-across-across-across of the E. 

“What a pretty whore you are.” I observe, still playing with your breasts. “But you’re so much more than that.” You feel my fingers tracing upwards; from your breasts to your shoulders to your throat, where they squeeze. My grip is just tight enough to make you gasp with surprise and fight for breath as I label you a slave just above your right breast. Over the left one I tell the world you are a fuck toy. Then my hands drift lower. The next letter comes between your belly button and the top of your vulva. You recognize the circle of an O and the jaunty lines of a W, but the rest of the letters come as a quick series of loops and lines. With your mind fogged by lust and terror it takes you a minute to realize they spell out Owned by [lightspeedsaint]. “There” I say, stepping back to admire my handiwork. “Now we know what you are, and who you belong to.” All you can do is stand there, naked and bound, displaying to the world that you are my slave and my fuck toy; my good little whore. 

Something else breaks the silence of the dungeon. It sounds like distant traffic, or a strong wind in the trees. You understand only when the tresses of the flogger rake across the tender skin of your belly. The burning is sudden and bright. It makes you cry out and flinch, rattling your chains. The second impact falls across your breasts. Its followed quickly by a thirdfourthfifth. The stinging grows steadily, matched by the needy throb from between your thighs. All you can do is struggle, moaning pathetically as you try to twist away from the pain of my lash. You can tell that I am smiling, and that the smile is sadistic, from the sound of my voice when I praise you. “That’s right pretty girl. Fucking squirm for me. Squirm like a good whore. Show me how sexy you are when you’re in pain. Show me why I love to punish those curves.” 

You are caught in a trap. Each time you shy away from the flogger or recoil in pain, you invite more. And as the pain gets more intense, the spectacle of your suffering gets better. You are a beautiful, sensuous dancer moving to the rhythm set by my lash, the melody of your own agonized whimpering. But this music is different. The more intense it becomes the less you can stand. With every blow of the flogger, it melts you into a mess of helpless pain and primitive, atavistic desire. 

You know that you are at your limit. Your skin burns and your heart throws itself against your ribs; every breath is long and ragged; threatening to become a sob. You hear the leather snap and await the strike that will send you over the edge, but it never falls. Instead, you feel my fingers, once again sliding up the inside of your thigh, and my lips softly pressing against the O in whore. The kiss is long and slow, passion and possession mixed together. 

You gasp suddenly. Your whole body quivers with unexpected bliss as my fingers slide smoothly into your needy pussy. “Look how wet that flogging made you.” I whisper into your ear. “You are such an eager little fuck toy.”  My fingers curl back and forth, calling pleasure out from deep inside you. It spills out through your body to reach the very tips of your toes as I ask “Do you want to be fucked, little toy?” 

Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t speak. Its just barely possible to think. And it feels like an eternity before you can find the words “Fuck. Yes. Please. Yes, sir.” 

You moan in needy frustration as my fingers pull away. Then you feel the clamps on your nipples. Their bite is gentle; a little pressure on one of your most sensitive parts. Its steady but not quite painful as I take your still bound hands down from above your head. You wait, ready to be led to whatever fate I have determined. 

With out a breath of warning the gentle pressure of the clamps changes into a bright pain. It flashes out from your breasts, and glows in every synapse in your body. The agony gets more intense as the tension on the chain between your breasts get tighter. Without even thinking you step forward, following me into the darkness. I use the clamps and the pain they inflict to guide you towards the bed. You know we have arrived only when I bend you down onto soft sheets and spread your legs. 

I don’t hold back. My cock fills your desperate and soaking pussy. All you can do is moan and twitch as I fuck you like the compliant whore that you are. The pleasure comes in waves, one after the other, they wash away what’s left of your beleaguered mind. You can feel yourself losing control, your muscles stiffening and your toes starting to curl as the relentless bliss becomes overwhelming. 

The sudden crack of a spank echoes, and the flesh of your ass burns. My fingers squeeze into it as I ask “Are you coming for me?” 

You just moan. Too far gone to even form words. I grab your hair with my free hand and lift your head from the mattress; lean in to whisper “Are you coming for me, like the desperate fucking whore that you are?” You moan again, but this time manage to answer “Yes, sir. I’m—” 

“Not with out my fucking permission you’re not.” I push your head back down. “Now beg.” 

“Please, sir.”  You grovel, a creature of raw desperation, stripped of pride, self respect, everything but the primal need for release. “Sir. Please please.” 

Another burning spank impacts the curve of your ass. “Come for me.” I command. “Come on my fucking cock like a broken little fuck toy.” 

Pleasure floods into your body, quick and sparkling and electric. It fills your whole nervous system, illuminates everything from the deepest core of you out to your fingers and your toes. It makes you’re breathing ragged, makes your jaw go slack. Washes your mind away as the current of bliss pulls you to orgasm.  

[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.