Yes, I’m a Slave now.
Obedient, submissive to the flick of the Cat’ or the tweak of the chain.
Obedient to my Master.
My Master orgasmed tonight, as did I.
I’ve learnt to enjoy it, not permittted to enjoy any other… it was the only way that I could get the release that I needed. I begged for it… like a Slave… so I am the Slave.
But I’m waiting.
Because, eventually, my fortune will change… eventually, I will be Master once more.
Those are the rules.
My turn will come again.
But I think I will be kinder, next time around.
I went to sleep, dreaming.
I shouldn’t have mocked, I shouldn’t have laughed… but back when I held the power, I used it cruelly, revelling in my devilry…. not thinking of what might happen if my power waned and our position’s switched.
Over-confident, I hadn’t seen the trap in drinkng to much wine, enjoying myself too much, to be wary.
But then, in the early hours of the morning, I found myself suddenly brought low, stripped naked and tied, shackled onto the new Torturer’s table that my ursurper had created, with my blessing, in my Dungeon.
Only yesterday, I had been admiring it’s wide, rough surface, plotting it’s use on my victim’s… feeling my skin snag on the edges as I experimentally dragged my hand over it, shivering with anticipation. The height of the platform allowed the Master easy access to both the top and bottom of the Slave, hole’s were strategically cut, allowing access, allowing various activities do be carried out… there were hinges and strap’s that could position and secure the tables occupant… I had never imagined that I would be the first one to feel it in action.
Now, I was tied face-down, so my breasts went into the star-shaped holes cut in the table top… young and firm, crowned with small, delicate, pink coloured nipples… normally they would jut perkily out in front of me, teasing all and sundry with their little gyration’s.
But not today… gravity was pulling them down through the hole’s. The stars allow them to be pressed through, the wooden points, somewhat sharp, rubbed and snagged on my skin as I tried to pull myself out of it’s clutches. But, with the way I was tied, I had to rest my upper-body back on the table top… more and more of my breasts were pushed through the holes, their grip on me increasing as time went by, the progress commented on by my captor.
Hands touched me, caressing my back, exploring further and further under me, touching the nipples as they protuded out of the hole’s, under the table…. gripping and drawing them down in a circular motion, easing my breast past the spikes of the star “No!, I gasped, trying to turn away from the hands… the finger’s were removed and I got a slap on my buttock. Another, another and another, each harder than the one before… the last one hard enough to sting. Then the hands went soft and gentle, rubbing until the sting of the blow faded, one on each buttock, massaging my skin, feeling the tenseness of the muscles lying underneath. Thumb’s rolling lower and lower, curving underneath me… my eye’s widening as they approached me, trying to pull my thigh’s in to close the gap… tied wide, there wasn’t anything to do to stop what was happening… I did all that I was permitted to do, pulling myself a few inches up the table, the thumbs kept moving and I felt them touch the fold’s of skin… I gasped, anticipating them opening me, entering me… then felt a withdrawl… and a kiss on my bum.
“Later, princess!” I shivered at the thought of that threat and the feel of a fore-finger tracing it’s way back up my butt, back up my spine… back to my right breast. A finger-tip rolled my nipple around, sensitising it to the touch… lips against it… a tongue, a mouth, teeth and gums… taking all that it could inside and drawing me down, through the hole.
Hands gripping me, pulling it, manipulating it through the hole, I surged upwards, the spikes dug into my tit, holding me… I kept the pressure on and wriggled, feeling the slow withdrawl of my breast’s from the hole… it was working!
I laughed, delighted that I was managing to thwart what was being done to me… it was working!
I got a glare from my torturer, but I wasn’t slapped this time.
A bowl was taken up and two handful’s of a thick cream taken out of it… each hand was forced underneath me, appled to each breast, rubbed fully over them, they felt smooth now, the hands nearly frictionless as they passed over each of them.
The hand’s were withdrawn, wiped clean.
Now a handle was swiftly turned, a cog revolved and a ratchet clanked softly as the strap across my shoulder tightened, pulling me down again, firmly against the table, leaving me with no more room to wriggle and my breasts once more in the grip of the hole’s… the lubricating cream making them pass easily downwards.
A second handle, and my bum was pulled down firmly too.
The hand’s each took up a pair of plier’s and showed them to me… “No!” I begged, I was ignored…
“No!… No! … Noooo!” I started squealing as they gripped me, just above the areola and pulled down on me… my nipples felt like they would be pulled off, but, mercifully, the now slippery breasts flowed down through the holes.
I could tell they had returned to their normal shape, my captor’s fingers ran over them, and a smug sound of satisfaction came from under the table. No amount of struggling could make them move out of the grasp. If anything nore and more of me eased downwards… lubricated by my passage, the points of the star didn’t grip me so painfully now.
The captor rose above the table and, taking up a tumbler, offered me a drink, I smelt the brandy, shock my head.
“Thirsty work, Princess!” I was told.
The captor and the glass disappeared back under the table.
Once again the mouth was applied to me… gentle on me, like a baby feeding… I closed my eye’s, trying to ignore the gentle suckling, the teasing of the tongue… maybe, if I responded… it wouldn’t be so bad?
I shivered and tried to push the thought away, I didn’t want to, but the damage was done…
I’d submitted to it…
Admitted that the tongue was being smoothly applied… with skill… flicking me… teasing a response… was my nipple crinking up? swelling? It felt like it was. I relaxed the death-grip of denial that I had held my mind in… the mouth drew more of me inside, the suction making me gasp, seemingly drawing more than flesh downwards, nerve-endings through my body being drawn into life.
I swallowed… wanting to fight back against wanting more… more suction was applied and my will faded… it felt so good!
The mouth withdrew…
More! I pushed down, blatantly asking for it now…
The mouth returned, even more sensually…
“That’s right, Princess!… beg for it, like a good girl!” and I did… the hand did what I wanted… what I begged for, certainly more kindly than when I did it. I was touched, toyed with, teased… the pleasure building up as I went to riding the finger between my legs, it stroked and teased me, rubbing my swollen clitorus. I knew what I wanted… but all the time, knowing, that being someone’s Slave usually didn’t mean unbridled pleasure… there had to be a price to pay… where was the pain? When would it start?
I was second’s away from my orgasm when the pain was inflicted on me.
The tumbler of alcohol was lifted up against my breasts, drenching them, I felt the rim of it encircling my nipple as it was dunked into the liquid… the ice cubes were pushed aside my my nipples, feeling like tiny razor blades slicing into me, where their corners touched my flesh… the glass was lifted and lowered, lifted and lowered… accentuating the pain of the intense coldness. The pain overwhelmed the nerve endings and dulled it down… still, I whimpered, unable to do anything to escape it from happening. Clamp’s were applied to both breasts, just above the nipples. The last of the alcohaol was splashed against my clitorus, a dash of ice and pain. Everything was wiped off with a cloth or something that felt coarse and rough… I was tensed up from this… was that it?
Was that the end of it?
Was that… something incredibly sharp pierced my left nipple… I screamed at the shock of it, feeling it pass through me, the hand’s followed it up with a nail rammed through the hole. Then did the same for the other nipple as well.
Leaving me with my as yet undamaged clitorus… “No!” No!… don’t!”
I screamed involuntarily as fingers went to work for a third time. The peircing, the insertion. A great hooked thing was inserted through the damaged area… I drew another breath and screamed again, sucked in my breath a third time… and a fourth, sobbing at the pain, but no longer needing to scream.
“Fuck that hurt!… you could have warned me! I said… breaking out of character… my sister grinned at me as she placed the sharps into a can and pulled off the gloves. ” No!… that would have ruined the moment she said, looking at me and licking her lips… she had an odd look on her face….
“Well, it’s done now! Let me up!”
“No!” she said… “You submitted to me!, I’m in charge now!”
“No I didn’t!”, I lied… “Let me up!… now!” I injected more force into my voice… I was the Master, she the Slave… it had always been like that!!
She ran her fingers over me again, kind enough to avoid touching the throbbing parts. I recognised the kindness for what it was.
“If you don’t submit, I will have to break you!… you don’t want that do you?” I recognised my own words, being spoken back to me. I had taught her to obey me… taught her about the consequenses of not obeying me… still, I strained against the strap’s and threatened her. “Don’t you dare touch me, you little bitch!, or I’ll break your neck!”
She bit her lip… and for a moment, I thought she would let me assert my old authority and let me resume being the Master.
Then she slipped off her apron, she had my favorite corset on, she was dressed like I did… when I was the Master. She picked up the cat’, ran the braided thongs through her fingers, smiling at me.
How many times had I used that on her? Ran it over her skin and then flogged her until she came?
“You submitted! It’s your turn to be the plaything, I’ve been your Slave… all this time!. It’s your turn now! Those were the rules!, Catherine!… you made them up… now stick to them. It’s… your… turn!” Her face became implacable, but I still tried to worm my way out of it, much good it did me.
She had learned from me, learned to get enjoyment from receiving the whip… only now she was on the giving end. She found the gratification that comes from giving pain. She took to it, just like I had… used me, like I had used her… and she found a new kind of release.
The whip… the straddling of my body, the grinding of her pussy against my butt-cheek’s, harder and harder, pumping my newly pierced clit along the wooden timbers, my groans of pain spurring her onwards. She clamped herself onto me and rode me like she was a jockey and I the mare underneath her… thumping at me with her own sounds of enjoyment, softly being breathed into my ears, until she came.
But I did not. The pain was incessant… they way things were going to be… for now and I’d better learn to like it.
She did one more thing, then released me from the straps that bound me.
I stood, a bundle of aches and pain… looked down at what she had done. Not huge nail’s but small bellbars were through my nipples… blood oozed from them, they were swollen, puffy and sore.
I tried to take a swing at her, for the humiliation of it all, but she gave the chain a twitch and I collapsed, onto my knee’s, gritting my teeth, unable to withstand the pain that was not pleasurable… yet.
The chain was the lightest of gold, but she had attached it to the hook in my clitorus. The hook had been closed with the pliers, securing the chain to the most sensitive part of me.
“Up!, up!, Slave!” She commanded, using the chain to bring me onto the tip’s of my toes…
She lead me to my bed, carefully tucked me in…
Kissed me… turned off the light.
Her voice from the dark…
“I love you… Slave!”
“I love you too!” I whispered back.