Page 75 of The Naughty List

“Take it,” my Sir says, and I nod.

“Yes, Sir.”

He hits me harder, and the shakes start up – racking right through me – but they make me beautifully dizzy, the pain morphing as my adrenaline peaks and eases. The blows feel further away now… more distant… and my body starts reacting by rocking, not jerking.

I shift my weight from knee to knee and I take what I’m given. Without fight, without restraint, with nothing but silent tears.

The freedom in the release of control is pure, absolute bliss.

My Sir knows he’s broken me. He approaches me from the front and tips my chin up towards him.

I smile through the tears. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome,” he tells me, and he’s smiling back. “And now, it’s time we truly begin.”

I’m in true subspace now, offering my arms and ankles willingly when he guides me over to the rack and stretches me tight. I’m smiling as he uses a dressage whip, stinging my front all over, then grinning as he flicks nasty strikes at my tits, leaving flashes of blood under the skin.

I cry and yelp and moan without care, staring up at him like he’s God himself, controlling my destiny, and all the while I want more. More. More.

I want him to use my pussy…

I want him to torture me and stretch me, and drive me crazy…

He strokes my forehead when he’s done with the dressage whip, and he reads the want in my eyes.

“Don’t worry, Holly. Good sluts always get their rewards.”

I’m staring as he walks away, wide-eyed when he returns with both a wand and a toy as thick as his wrist. For the first time in a while, I pull against my bonds.

His eyes are fierce, putting me right back in my place.

“Holly, who controls you in this space?”

“You, Sir.”

“Who does your body belong to?”

“You, Sir.”

“Who decides what pain and pleasure your cunt takes?”

I suck in a breath. “You, Sir.”

He loosens my ankle shackles from the rack but only to fasten them higher, making sure my clamped pussy is on full display for him. There is no escape for me in this position. My cunt belongs to him.

“Be a good girl,” he says, brushing his thumb across my clit, and it’s tender enough that I moan like a whore. “This is going to hurt,” he says when he pulls my pussy clamps apart, tugging to spread me open like a dirty butterfly.

I hear a jangle, and he binds my clamps to my thighs, pulled so tight that they sting and throb like a bastard, but I don’t care. The subspace is already back and consuming me.

The buzz of the wand is electric, literally. Sparks and crackles against my clit alongside the tremors that have me writhing, toes curled, panting for him.

I hear a squelch of lube and I don’t try to fight it, just let the pain slam hard as he shunts the beast of a dildo in my pussy, working it into my cunt as he zaps my clit to a rhythm.

He’s got me.

With the throb of my bound tits, and my bruised, lashed skin all over, I’m nothing more than a sensitive canvas, his to own. When he makes me come it’s from a subspace I haven’t known in years, if ever, transcending the pain into the ultimate place of submission.

My pussy clenches, waves of pleasure like veins pulsing through my entire body, and I’m crying out like a bitch gone insane, bucking as best as I can against him while he abuses my pussy like the greatest man alive.

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