Absolute Submission

Bad Dragon

I stand in the room, knowing I will meet my Master soon. I’ve been ordered by my handlers to keep my gaze downcast, to not talk back, and only speak when spoken to. Apparently, those are all some of my less desirable attributes, and I’ve been told time and time again that I’m a long way from what a slave should be. Now that I’ve been bought, I’m determined to prove to my Master and myself that I can be the kind of slave any Master would be proud of.

He walks in, coolly confident, and my heart skips a beat. He’s tall, handsome, with a cruel glint in his eye and I can’t help but wonder what torturous delights he has in store for me.

He stops, then looks me up and down: “You belong to me now. I own you, understand, slave?”

I exhale shakily and breathe out a barely perceptible “Yesss.”

Lightning quick, he takes both my nipples between his fingers, and expertly squeezes them until I gasp in fear and delight. “You will address me as Sir. You will end each statement with Sir, you will start each request with Sir, or your punishment will be …severe.” He smirks then, and lifts my head up to meet his gaze, twisting my nipples until I finally understand what’s asked of me, and I practically moan, “Yes, Sir.”

“So she can learn. Good girl.” He pats my face appreciatively and steps back.

He circles me like a predator, making comments about my body, my hair, my face, noting the need to get rid of my worn clothes. He sighs, “How am I supposed to inspect you properly with all those rags on? Strip.” I rush to get out of my clothes, eager to please, and he stops me with a slap to my hands: “Slowly. Look at me while you do it, make it worth my while.” I take my clothes off one by one, blushing furiously as he nods with appreciation.

I stand there, entirely naked, painfully aware of my nipples hardening in the cool air, and my pussy betraying me with its wetness. He touches me, both hands on my tits, rolling my nipples, pulling them, holding onto them, then letting them go, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me that quickly turns into barely concealed moans.

“Huh, a filthy slut and a slave, looks like I hit the jackpot.” His hands knead my tits, and my eyes start to close in pleasure, when he suddenly stops. His hands are between my tits, and I become so very aware of the fact that I’ve been sweating all day without any chance for a shower. “Tsk tsk, they didn’t even clean you properly before sending you to me? Let’s get you cleaned up, filthy slaves don’t get collars, you know.”

“Yes, Sir.” I look at him with desperation, unwilling to admit that his rough handling of my sensitive nipples sent me halfway to a powerful orgasm, but eager to do whatever I need to do to feel more.

I turn towards the bathroom and take a few unsteady steps forward, when I feel a powerful hand grip my hair. His cool and measured voice turns into a growl: “Crawl, slave. You haven’t earned the right to walk beside me.” He lowers me down by my hair, and I feel two unexpected, sharp slaps to my upturned ass. It’s all I can do to keep my breathing even; my pride won’t let him see my weaknesses, yet.

I try and crawl towards the bathroom, but the sting in my ass blurs my thoughts. I feel the tendrils of pain turn into the most delicious warmth, traveling from my ass to my increasingly wet pussy, and just as I start gathering my thoughts, I feel a steady hand grab my swollen cunt. I gasp and involuntarily push back, desperate to feel my Master’s fingers inside me. He dips a finger inside my folds: “Huh, it really doesn’t take much to get you wet. I’m going to take my time enjoying your holes later.”

He pats my pussy: “You like getting your pussy fucked, right, slave?” “Yes, Sir,” as I rock back and forth on his hand. “What about your mouth?” “Yes, Sir.” His pats get harder, bordering on spanking, and I’m starting to lose it. “What if I fuck your ass? You know, taking a cock up the ass is a true mark of a good slave.” He pinches my clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it roughly, as I moan: “Yes, Sir, anything you want, Sir.”

He takes his hand away abruptly, and I whimper with frustration. “Go on now, we don’t have all day.” I stumble, eliciting a chuckle from my Master. As I crawl towards the bath, he pries my ass cheeks open. “That tiny hole is going to need a lot of work for me to fuck it properly. Next time, I expect you to be wearing a plug. Am I clear?” I am completely helpless, entirely exposed, Kartal Anal Escort and while I should be embarrassed, humiliated, furious even, I can’t help but feel a level of arousal I’ve never felt before. “Yes, Sir. When would you like me to wear the plug for you, Sir?”

He pauses, tapping my butthole absentmindedly with one finger, “Given how tight you appear, you will be required to wear a plug through dinner on any days I decide to take that fuckable ass of yours.” I gasp, knowing that it will be nearly impossible for me to concentrate on dinner, but I know my place, and that place is to obey my Master. “Yes, ssssir.”

Somehow, miraculously, I make it to the bath and look behind me. Master stares at me expectantly: “You do know your slave positions, don’t you?” I shake my head, as I have not been owned by anyone before Him, and meekly admit, “No, Sir, I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Kneel, slave. Hands on your thighs, back straight, palms up, face forward.” I do my best to get into the position, he pinches and prods me into an acceptable pose, then whispers in my ear: “When I tell you to kneel or wait, you will present yourself to me in this way. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir, what?”

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“That’s better.” He turns on the faucet, waiting for the water to warm up. I feel the cold tile press into my knees, my achingly wet pussy dripping on the bathroom floor. It fees like I’m kneeling forever.

“Get in the shower, slave. Stand with your legs wide apart, hands on the back of your head.” I carefully get in the shower, interlock my fingers behind my head and spread my legs ever so slightly. I can’t seem to meet his intense gaze. I fear he’ll know my every secret desire, my every dark wish if I look him in the eyes.

“Wider, slave.” A sharp slap to my thighs snaps me back to reality, and I will my jellied legs to spread for my Master, as humiliation courses through my body. I curse my sopping wet cunt for betraying me, and manage a weak “Yes, Sir.”

“When I tell you to be ready for inspection, I expect you to stand exactly like this,” he muses, as he switches the water from tap to the handheld showerhead. I’m not ready, just barely able to grasp the protocols, as the stream of water hits me square on my tits. I nearly let go of my hands but remember that I am required to hold the position until Master demands otherwise. As he moves the showerhead around my body, I instinctively arch my back, begging for him to touch my tits, my nipples, anything, please, Sir.

“Turn around.”

I obey, focusing on my breathing, determined not to give in to my wanton desires. The water is warm on my back, and I feel myself start to relax into it, nearly forgetting that my slave training is merely beginning.

Somewhere in my haze of daydreams I’m given a loofah: “Lather yourself up for me, slave. I need you sparkling clean.” “Yes, Sir,” I mutter and start to lather up my arms, my sides, my tits, being sneaky and toying with my nipples when I can. I move the loofah lower to my thighs and move it gently between my legs. My fingers find my eager, swollen clit, and give it a few strokes. I feel emboldened and stick my fingers between my pussy lips. “It’s not like he’ll notice,” I think. I start to play with my pussy in earnest, delighting in being able to get away with something so naughty.

The vicious slap on my ass almost knocks me off-balance. I barely suppress a yelp, but a powerful hand is preventing me from turning around.

“Since you seem to love fucking yourself so much, why don’t you fuck your ass for me, slave?”

In that moment, I’m eternally grateful for the steam of the shower hiding my reddened cheeks, my face burning in frustration and embarrassment. I plead: “I’m sorry, Sir, I won’t do it again, Sir!”

Master shakes his head, explaining: “That’s not how it works. When you do well, you’ll be rewarded, and when you disobey, you’ll be punished. Spreading your own ass for me and fucking yourself seems like a fitting punishment for your…indiscretion.”

I barely manage a “Yes, Sir”, my eyes downcast, my face crimson in shame. I take the loofah, making sure it’s nice and foamy, and start to rub my ass with it. It feels so naughty, so I start taking foam off the loofah and rubbing it in my crack, spreading my ass with my other hand.

“Hold your ass open.” The cool, stern voice brings me back into the moment. I Kartal Yaşlı Escort obey, and all is still for a few seconds, until the sharp spray of water hits my butthole with full force. I gasp in shock and the stream of water moves, offering brief respite from the painfully pleasurable sensation.

“Go ahead, fuck your ass with your fingers.” I barely register the request, but my eagerness to please wins. I gently stick one finger in my ass, holding my cheeks open with my other hand. Knowing that Master is watching me closely makes my cunt gush, and I dip one finger, two, even three in my folds, bringing the slick wetness to my butthole.

I feel strong hands turn my body around, and the shower stream hits my stomach, my nipples, and once Master directs it to my clit, I start to fuck my ass like my life depends on it. “Sir, please, Sir, I don’t think I can hold it, I need to come so badly, Sir,” I beg. I feel the beginning of a monstrously powerful orgasm build in the pit of my stomach.


My eyes open wide in shock as the water is abruptly turned off.

“You will come when I allow you to come, do you understand, slave?” “Yes, Sir, please Sir, I’ll be good, Sir.” Any remnants of my bashfulness and shame are long gone now — I am filled with an all-consuming need to please my Master.

“I need your skin to be soft and supple. Moisturize, brush your hair, put on some thigh high stockings, then wait outside the bathroom. You do remember how to wait properly, don’t you?” His fist closes around a handful of my hair, as he helps me out of the tub, “Yes, Sir.”

I towel myself off, noticing the rough feel of the material against my nipples, and I pinch them lightly. I moisturize my body, taking a few seconds extra to impale my ass and pussy on my fingers. I admire the thigh highs Master picked out and slip them on. I step out of the bathroom, eyes downcast, then kneel the way Master taught me. I become aware of his menacing presence, and notice that he’s holding a length of rope. My breath catches in fear, but my drooling pussy betrays me once again.

“Hands out, palms together, slave.” I offer up my hands, watching in fascination as Master creates a beautiful wrist tie, pulls me to my feet and attaches it to a hook on the wall with my ass facing him.

There’s an indescribable beauty in being bound — knowing that all of me is visible, accessible, ready and willing while I cannot escape, is beyond arousing. At this point, my ego falls away, any remaining thoughts dim, and I am completely and entirely His.

“Not bad. You’ve done well so far, but every good slave must pass my endurance test.” I feel something scratch my back, my ass, my thighs, and I squirm against the ropes. Master’s voice is silky smooth, completely in control, and I feel his hot breath on my back as his fingers slide expertly into my desperate pussy. “What a wet cunt. You love this, don’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” “We’ve determined that you’re a slut, but are you an anal slut, too, hmm?” “Yes, Sir, I’m your anal slut, Sir.”

“You have no idea how much I’ll enjoy fucking that tight hole of yours. But first, let’s see how much you can take.” His hands grab my ass, kneading it roughly, spanking it, rubbing it, moving up and down my body, pulling my hair, until I fear that I’ll come, oh god I’ll come right now, and then he stops.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, “but the question is, how sensitive?”

The first clothespin on my left tit brings a sobering flash of pain with it, and just as I start getting used to it, he attaches more, and more, and more. My tits, my ass, my arms, legs, sides, until my skin is buzzing with pain and pleasure. Master kicks my feet out wider, and I feel a clothespin being attached to my pussy lips. I abandon all decorum and moan, “Sir, thank you, Sir,” eliciting a satisfied chuckle from my tormentor. He flicks the clothespins at random, sending flashes of pain and indescribable pleasure directly into my clit.

Master turns my body towards him, showing me an exquisite riding crop. My eyes open wide in fear — and as I meet Master’s eyes, he holds the crop in front of my lips. Instinctively, I kiss it and lick it, the feeling of the smooth leather both sensuous and terrifying.

He lets the crop travel around my body, tapping it gently, slowly, steadily increasing its power. He taps the clothespins and I groan, needing to feel more. Without warning, he whips the clothespins Kartal Zenci Escort off one by one, and I am blinded by the delicious mixture of pleasure and pain, writhing in my wrist restraints. The crop is landing everywhere — my back, the sides of my tits, my ass, my thighs, and I feel myself pushing my ass up to meet the blows. I feel like a single touch to my clit will send me skyrocketing into an earth-shattering orgasm, my body and my soul, my entire being belonging to Him.

He turns me around, tugs on my nipples, and lowers himself in front of my dripping pussy.

“You’ve done well, slave. I sure hope your pussy tastes as good as it looks.” He spreads my thighs roughly, and buries his face in my achy, desperate cunt, expertly lashing my clit with his hot tongue. I moan uncontrollably, pleading to come, please please Sir, as he continues his relentless assault with his tongue. He bites my pussy lips, he spreads me open with his fingers, he licks my slowly, then furiously. When he takes my clit in his mouth and sucks on it, I nearly lose it. I shake, nearly sobbing from being denied what I was sure to be most powerful orgasm of my life.

I barely notice my wrists being freed from the hook and being walked backwards onto the bed.

“I think you’ll be my favorite slave, little one. There’s only one test left: the sexual skill test. Are you ready?” I moan my assent, spread my legs and open my mouth. I shiver with lust, feeling my pussy juices lubricating my ass and gathering in a pool underneath me. Any embarrassment I felt earlier in the evening dissipated — I feel proud of being a good painslut, and determined to prove that I can be a good fucktoy for Him.

He climbs onto the bed behind me, and kneels on my forearms, pinning me down. I open my eyes and gasp at the size of his cock. I eagerly open my mouth and do my best to fit as much of his length as possible in my mouth. He begins to fuck my mouth slowly, allowing me to get used to his monstrous length and girth. Just as I relax into the face fucking, he reaches up and starts to rub my clit with his hand, slowly at first, then speeding up, until I start to buckle underneath him.

“Sir, I can’t take it, please, I’m going to come, Siiiiiiiir”, I wail, as he holds me down, stuffing his cock down my throat again. He slaps my cunt, and it makes obscene wet squishing sounds. He continues to slap my thighs, my cunt, my ass, all the while calmly telling me, “Not yet. You will come with my cock up your ass and my fist in your wet cunt, understand?”

I am teetering dangerously close to the edge. My breathing is ragged, I am covered in sweat and my own juices, and all I crave in that moment is to be filled, to have my holes stretched and fucked and used in any way Master wants.

He positions himself at the entrance to my pussy, and I barely notice how incredible his cock feels inside me. I’m holding my orgasm back with tears in my eyes, transcending anything I’ve ever felt before. I hear Master’s breath catch, and I float back into the room, noticing him lubing up his cock and his fingers. I wantonly turn my ass up, and he smoothly slides in one finger, then two, then three.

“You are my anal slut, look at that hole, so eager for my cock. I have to admit, I’m pleasantly surprised by your abilities. Usually, I don’t allow my slaves to come on the first day, but I think in your case, I’ll make an exception.” As the words leave his mouth, I feel his cock enter my stretched ass smoothly, and as I begin to get used to the feeling of a massive cock up my ass, he fills my pussy with three fingers.

“Three is the absolute minimum, slave. Let’s do four.” I moan as he shifts and adds a fourth finger. I feel stretched, filled, on a knife’s edge away from losing my fucking mind.

“Good girl. You ready for my fist?”

“Yes, Sir, please, Sir.”

“Please, Sir, what?”

“Sir, please fist my pussy, please fuck my ass, please allow your slave to come, please, Sir.” I am borderline incoherent. I feel his hand stretch my pussy even more, and suddenly, he’s fisting my hungry cunt, he’s fucking my ass, and I can’t hold on anymore: “Oh god, Sir, please, I’m coming, Sir, fuck meeee!”

“Come now, slave,” Master groans, and his face changes as he begins to really fuck me in earnest. My world shatters; I am undone. I feel the most incredible sensation start in my belly and fill my body with pleasure so great that swear I can feel the universe move within me. I feel my pussy grip his fist, my ass milk his cock, and I hear him growl: “You are mine.” He fills my ass with ropes and ropes of hot cum, fucking me relentlessly, until he is fully spent. I arch my back, I shake, I tremble, my skin electrified. I am His, and His alone.