He binds her in what has become one of their favorite predicaments. Simple. Difficult. Her collar is turned so that the steel ring that normally graces her throat is at the back of her neck. Her leather cuffs encircle her wrists. Her arms rest in the small of her back. He connects the collar to the cuffs with a loop of twine. A small loop. Her arms are hoisted from her lumbar to her shoulder blades.

The position rapidly becomes a struggle. She must lift her arms to relieve the pressure on her throat. Light pressure. It does not impair her respiration. But it is uncomfortable. It is very uncomfortable. And this is far from the sole pleasure of the position. She is utterly, completely helpless thusly bound. Thoroughly confounded in movement, she is nevertheless completely exposed. She can cover neither her breasts nor her ass.

The blindfold ensures she will not know whether her next torment will be applied to those breasts, or that ass. She is desperately aroused. Fear and anticipation build until she feels the rough palm of his hand caressing her cheek. He builds the anticipation slowly. Cupping her breast lovingly. Briefly lifting her elbows to relieve her strain. She can smell his proximity. Her heart seems to quiver rather than beat.

The slicing sound of the crop through the air and the yellow blossom of pain in her breast come in the same moment. She gasps and bites her bottom lip gently. The hand returns. The pain is replaced with the warm pleasure of his touch. Her body floods with arousal. He nudges her knees apart with his foot. Presses the cool leather of his cordovan monk-strap into her dripping pussy. Another blow of the crop lands.

The alternation of blows to her breasts and gentle caresses repeats. How long? She can’t know. A minute. An hour. Finally, he releases her arms from their strictures. And issues his first instruction.

“You’ve gotten your juices on my shoe, slave. Lick it clean.”

She places her hands on the floor in front of her. Arches her back, lifting her cream-colored ass into the air, her smooth pink lips peeking between her lean and immaculate thighs. Blindfolded, it takes a moment for her to locate the foot. She can smell herself, now, on its supple leather. Her tongue caresses the horsehide as a shiver of humiliation runs through her, releasing another deluge from her core. As she expected, he takes the opportunity to direct the crop to her upturned ass.

“Well done, my pretty little slave. Now, thank me for your torment.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers.

She rises to her knees again. Unzips his trousers. His heavy member falls free and she takes it in her mouth. He is supremely aroused. It takes little effort for her to coax his climax from him. She swallows him. He catches his breath.

“Well done, my darling captive,” he pronounces, as he lifts her to her feet and removes her blindfold. “Well done indeed. Now, bow for your audience.”

The room erupts in applause. A waiter brings her a glass of champagne at her master’s indication. She smiles bashfully and takes a modest sip. He leans down into her, kisses her, and whispers into her ear: “I think you’ve earned an orgasm of your own for that performance. Probably.”

-The Refined Dominant

2 thoughts on “Performance.

  1. meredithwyatt1990 says:

    I love how well these are written. When I read them it almost has a dream like quality though it is very real. Amazing job :)

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