How does a cum slut arrive in a basement? That is none of her business. He made sure she was taken when she wasn’t expecting it, and he had her in his favorite position: hogtied with a ball gag firmly in place. The strain in her body, the chafing of the rope into her flesh, the way her eyes darted to each form that came into her line of sight from the table. She knew she was in danger. Why then did her eyes tell him that she was eagerly anticipating what was to come? Is it because he understood so well the mind of a slut?
She drew in a deep breath in a futile attempt to will herself to stay calm. To twist against the rope would only cause more pain. She could tell she was in a basement. She saw exposed pipes and cement and a circuit box, but she also saw a workbench and….a vise. She heard quiet footsteps, and then she heard his voice. Against, her better judgment, she squirmed and twisted, only to hear him say, “CEASE!”
She knew that voice. They had met online in a chat room, and they had even talked on the telephone a few times, but they were basically strangers. The few times they spoke he had hinted at his desires, feeling her out and leading her along to gauge her response. "At last, whore." he said, in that low voice that she knew so well from phone conversations. Everything seemed to stand still. She found herself unable to breathe. Her throat refused to release the breath she had drawn in at the first sound of his voice. He grazed his hand across her hair. Every action seemed to freeze her into total stillness, like a wild animal in a forest.
“Relax, slut,” he chuckled deep in his throat, "...and breathe. I can’t have you passing out on me, now can I?” His words unlocked the tension in her body, and she was able to exhale. He stroked her hair, "Very good, Pet. You know how to listen and obey. This is the first rule of your being submissive to me." He grasped her hair and yanked her head up. "Look at me to acknowledge your Dom, whore. I am going to briefly remove your gag, and you will greet me as I will teach you what is proper.” He pinched and eased the rubber ball out of her forced lips, seeing the threads of drool. His erection swelled. She raised her eyes and whispered, "Yes, Sir."
She concentrated on slowing down her pulse and breathing. She could draw the breath in, but she would lock up on expelling it. What she couldn't understand was how much this played into control and release, and how much of her action was under the domain of this man. His physical presence in the small enclosed space was having a definite effect on her. Her nipples were straining at her skimpy top and she knew her silk skirt must be showing a wet spot from her excitement.
For what seemed the longest time, he was reaching over her prone form and touching her somewhere new: her forearm straining behind her back, running his finger above the strap of gag leather on her cheek, the knuckles of his hand brushing the tops of her tits. When he would touch her, he would voice what he was doing: teaching the slut to learn to respond to the sound of his command. There would be times she would be blindfolded, and he needed to heighten her sense of sound so she could obey without thinking.
Every touch felt like a shock that made her nipples harder. Her heart was racing. Her cunt was wetter. He heard the smallest moan of disappointment escape her suppressing lips each time he withdrew the contact. She needed to learn the discipline of not getting what she wanted. Limitations must be set. Without warning, he slid his fingers up under her skirt and fingered her clit. "Cum, my little whore. Cum for your Master.” Her cunt spasmed immediately at his words, releasing a gush of wetness.
Her muscles grew rigid and ached at the strength of the orgasm that was ripping through her body. She found her moans deepening into grunts, a sound she had never heard before. “Cumming while bound. You truly are a cum slut, aren’t you? “ She knew she had pleased him, yet she blushed deeply. A slight smile flitted across his face. “After talking to you from a distance, I have waited a long time to see that with my own eyes."
"Are you ready to give your Dom pleasure, Whore?" He started to untie the rope only to retruss her to a pipe, with her arms stretched high above her head. "Hold your head high, Slut. Be proud that you will receive my cock. Stand up straight, and on the tips of your toes. Earn the right to suck me." She had to wait for what seemed like an eternity. She knew she couldn’t turn her head, but she listened to his footsteps cross the room and go up the stairs. How long would this torment and strain last? She didn’t know, but she knew she dare not try and get away or squirm her wrists from the rope. What seemed like hours later, but was probably only a brief span of time, the Dom returned, and he stood in front of her. His hand lifted her chin to look sternly into her eyes.
Her body and soul quivered with pleasure at the edge of command in his voice, "Unless given express permission, you are not to speak. Nod if you understand this." She eagerly nodded her head. "Very good, Slut.. I am going to untie you, and you will obey me. Now, spread your legs and place your hands behind your head. Stand up straight!" A flicker of appreciation gleamed in his eyes at her instant compliance.
He began to slowly circle her body, touching her here and there: a fingernail raked up her spine, fingertips circled lightly on her ass cheeks, her nipples rolled between thumb and forefinger. She felt a sharp sense of loss each time a touch stopped, even as her body tensed in anticipation, wondering where the next touch would land. Her breathing became labored; her heart raced; her nipples tightened; her face flushed a dusky rose.
Soft muffled whimpers escaped from her, as she tightly pressed her lips together, knowing that she must not speak. Moisture was reforming between her legs. He knew it. His even, steady gaze caused her to shudder as it noted each of her reactions to his every touch. He sensed the straining in her muscles as she writhed under the awkward commanded posture. “Kneel, Whore, and prepare to receive my cock. You will take my entire cock into your mouth, but I absolutely forbid you to suck it. Do you understand me, Whore?”
Her pupils dilated as she tilted her head and open mouth to receive the rigid cock. "Yes," He murmured to himself, "exactly as it should be." As the cock entered her mouth, she wanted to cry out, “OH,” but she choked it back. "Did you say something, Slut?" His eyes held cold fire and his voice could cut with a single word. She looked up at him fearfully, shaking her head rapidly. "Very good. I did not think so. I should hate to be forced to punish you so early. That wouldn't please me at all."
Her knees were sore from rubbing on the bare wood of the floor. She felt an intense longing to lean just a bit more; to take his entire cock into her mouth and suck wildly on it, but she remained consciously aware that he had not given permission for this. The stab of loss when he pulled the glistening cock out of her mouth was more than she could bear. Yet she heard him murmur, "Such a good Pet. Such an obedient Slut." She sternly reminded herself of her purpose: It was to serve his needs. It was to fulfill his desires.
When he wanted her to suck his cock and release his cum he would chose the time. She consciously willed herself to kneel with ramrod straightness and vowed not to disappoint him by disobedience. As if he could read her thoughts, he stared deeply into her eyes, "Excellent decision, Pet." Her mind went numb. She was so quickly addicted to his praise and approval. Where did this power come from? She knew it was forbidden to speak without permission, but she gasped out, "I belong to You, Sir." He leaned into her ear and growled, "Yes. All of you belongs to me, Cum Slut.” She buckled at the thought. “Now show me how you can suck my cock until I splash my cum across your face.” “Show me,” he whispered.
