Latest Forum Posts:

Categories

Thank You, Sir!

Submission isn't easy - but some masters are able to see beyond insubmissiveness.
She didn’t know exactly how it happened. It just did. And she knew she had to fight him, hoping to lose, fearing to win. It didn’t make sense, but it was absolutely vital to her.

He repeated the order he had just given her. She stared back at him; and then, within one quick move and screaming “No”, she pulled away from him and made for the door. He caught up on her before she was able to touch the handle and pushed her against the door that meant leaving him, leaving “it”, leaving what she had signed up for. He pressed her hard against it, hurting her. She struggled, but it was nothing to him. He caught both of her wrists and pinned her to the wooden resistance in her back.

“Let me go,” she yelled, pushing and kicking against him.

“Say the password, and you’re out of here,” he hissed at her. She fought him, struggled, and even tried to kick him. He understood that she wasn’t going to say it, that it was not she wanted or needed.

He was a tall, very strong and quick man, both mentally and physically. She was small, much smaller than him. No match.

He now smiled at her, a smile somewhere between amused and dangerous.

“Okay then… go for it,” he said and then pushed her to the floor, where he immediately grabbed her again, pinning her down with all of his weight. She found that her moves and breathing were hindered and blocked by his weight; yet she fought him. There was no more limit now; she used all of what she had. She used the fact that she was small to try and slip out from under him, managed to turn around; she tried to kick him, to bite him, to scratch him, pull her wrists out of his grip. He held on.

It lasted for as long as it had to, which was a long time. She pretended to give up once; relaxing her body under his and hoping he would do the same. He did slightly; but when she tried to use this in her favour and tried once again to get out and away from him, he was much too fast. Too fast, not to be manipulated, strong. Everything she liked about him. He wasn’t trying not to hurt her; his grip was like iron around her arms. She would admire the marks for days and days afterwards.

“When you’re done, say it. Say 'I give up, I submit',” he said. His words made her angrier still. She used this moment to get up all of her anger, against him and the rest of the world as well as the pride of her independence; her person; her dignity; and her darkness, her own need for an exorcism. It flew out of her like a wave and she struggled and fought him even harder. Her muscles started to tremble from the effort she was mustering up and then she had to let go and just lay there, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Say it,” he said. It was unusual for him to repeat an order. His voice was a reminder of who he was. And who she was. And how she was going to pay for this behaviour. Again she tried to fight him off, but by now, he anticipated each move she made and resisted or pushed her back on the ground which got more and more painful.

She fought until there was nothing left in her. Her body and her voice were shaking as she became herself again. Saying it was hard, she had to breathe in and start several times.

“I give up, Sir. I submit. I’m sorry…”

The blackness of her emotions, the anger and the confusion had left. He hadn’t let go of her yet, watching her closely. Now that she had said the words he had required, her body relaxed completely, he could see submission coming back into her expression; the submission he loved so much and meant total surrender to him.

She couldn’t stand his gaze. This had been her personal demons and she knew she hadn’t done right. She lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t…” she tried to explain.

“Shut up, slut,” he cut in. “You are not allowed to talk until I tell you to.”

She nodded as a sign to let him know she had understood.

He got off from her. She started to miss him as soon as he stood up. His gaze was still on her, hard. She sat up. Her whole body ached and trembled.

“Come on over here.” He motioned the spot they had been in before. The bed and the table with all of her toys and his material. Scary and exiting material. She got up, but felt his disapproval. He wanted her on all fours, not upright. She got down on her knees, worried about the blow or the blows that were going to fall.

“I’m going to add these to the rest,” she heard him say. And she crawled over to where pain, play with her limits and pleasure was waiting for her.

On her knees still, she was waiting for him and his orders. He positioned himself behind her. And began by spanking her. Slowly, methodically, like he always did. She barely realised the first couple of blows but then, the heat and the repeated blows started mounting, getting into her brain, rolling over her until she was only painful skin and nerves; expecting the next blow.

Once, a long time ago, she had asked him, “Doesn’t your hand hurt you when you this? I mean, I get the blows, but you also get some pain, no?”

And he had smiled at her and answered, “That’s why I have two hands.”

She could tell now by the different angles that he changed hands. She covered her head with her hands and hoped that it would be over soon. When it was over, she didn’t dare to look up; she remained on her knees, expecting his next order. It didn’t come. She peaked up at him; half fearing that she had gone too far, that he was leaving.

He was sitting in a chair, relaxed, looking calmly at her. She crawled over to him and began to lick his feet, symbolic for her position. She didn’t mind doing it anymore. Didn’t mind the orders he would give her and that were incomprehensible to her logic. Didn’t question the fact that she was his slut, his bitch and his altogether; existing to serve him.

As she rose higher, she hardly dared leaning her arms on his legs. When she had arrived at his cock (his amazing, incredible cock full of wonders for her), she sucked him into her mouth, slowly. He put his hand on her head, guiding her slightly.

“You know I’m going to have to punish you for this,” he said. She nodded slightly. He seemed to be thinking.

“Get on the bed then,” he ordered. And she did.

He walked over to her and blindfolded her; and then directed her to get on her knees. She heard him move between the table and the bed; and then he took her wrists and tied them together, pushed her head on the matrass and pulled the rope from her wrists to the bedposts. She couldn’t make out exactly what he was doing after that, but he was working on her, positioning her body, tying knots, testing them. She felt the rope and his hands on her feet, her waist, and her bent knees. It took a while and she didn't dare to move during all that time. Finally, he pushed a small pillow under her ass and on her legs, thus making her lift her ass higher. He took a step back.

“Now you fight this,” he said with a certain sound of satisfaction in his voice. She didn’t dare to move.
“I said fight this!” he ordered; another order he had had to repeat and she immediately felt sorry.

She tried to pull on her arms and legs, felt the ropes and restraints bite into her skin. She was on her knees and slowly took in the measure of how helpless, exposed and at his mercy she was. There was now nothing she could do, except feel the rope and what was to come. She was on her knees, her ass lifted into full exposure for him and anything he would want to do to her. Her position wasn’t comfortable, but strangely comforting and making her feel safe. Her mind finally stopped running in circles, and she let herself go, fearful, yet exited.

He started slowly, as usual. Running his hands up on down her back and her ass cheeks, massaging the irritated skin which sent shivers up her spine. He moved up towards her head, and put a pillow next to her mouth, pushing it slightly against her mouth so that she could feel where it was.

“I want you to accept the pain, not fight against it,” he said. “Use it, enjoy it, and take it as a tool towards more pleasure. You’re not to talk, not to say anything or make noise. If you can’t stand it, use the pillow. If you were to disobey, I’ll punish you more. You may nod to confirm you got it.”

And she nodded.

The blow came totally unexpectedly. He used his leather belt this time. The first blow made her jump; it felt as if it had come from nowhere. It wasn’t particularly painful though. The next ones bit into her skin, harder and hotter each time. She tried to concentrate on the emotion and the feeling, like she had been told and her body and mind followed the waves that were washing over her as he continued to punish her. Her tears were soaked up by the blindfold and she didn’t make any sound.

He stopped; she heard him put the belt down on the bed. His hand spread her ass cheeks a little more and then he pushed right into her pussy. She hadn’t realised she was soaking wet; she hadn’t expected him to push into her so directly and so hard. He pounded her hard and for several minutes, she felt his balls slapping against her ass cheeks. He pulled out suddenly and the blows began to fall again.

This time, the intensity was different. Her skin and body began to react; she felt the pain all over, not just on the parts that were treated. Without wanting it, she tensed up, pulling against the ropes, trying to avoid the blows.

He stopped, spread her ass cheeks, but this time, he took her ass. Again, he pushed into her directly, deeply, without hesitation. He wasn’t one to hesitate. In her mind, her sensations between pain and pleasure and the happiness of having him inside her got pulled into one confused mixture making her forget time, space and herself. Buried deeply inside of her, he stopped the move, bent over her, gripping her hair with one hand and her neck with the other one, pressing the collar into her skin. She was full of him; on the inside and on the outside.

“You are not going to go anywhere or resist any of my orders ever again,” he hissed into her ear. She nodded.

He pounded into her without changing his position.

“You are mine – until you say the bloody password and get rid of your collar. You get me, slut? Mine!” he said.

She nodded.

He pulled out of her. This time, she expected him to continue with his belt, but again, he wasn’t working according to her expectations. It started with several strong slaps with his hands and then continued with a series of small, stinging bites, always on the same spot. She understood that he had taken up his plastic rod, a small, flexible tool she disliked. One bite of it didn’t matter much, but the longer he continued, the more painful and irritating it got, particularly as he continued to aim at the same spot. Her already painful skin reacted more and more, and she started to hate hearing it make the swishing sound through the air, the sound of it meeting her own skin, the feeling of burning and stinging going back and forth between her ass and her brain.

She had supported the hard blows, but this smaller, so much more irritating sensation got the better of her. Biting into the pillow, she started to sob, slowly at first, then more. Her last defence was coming down little by little, her emotions were taking over.

He continued. His own satisfaction was growing as he saw her break down as the marks he was giving her became more and more visible.

He finally put the little rod down and began fucking her again. He held her tight and fucked her hard; alternating between her pussy and her ass. He had marked her skin for sure, but he wanted to make sure she was going to feel him on her insides as well.

He could tell she was at a point of total surrender. There was no more fight; she was on her knees, mentally as much as physically, one bunch of emotions and sensations. If he hadn’t known that she needed just that, he would maybe have felt a little sorry.

As he was riding her ass again, it broke out of her between sobs. “I’m so sorry, sir, I’m sorry! I’m yours, yours, yours, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

He bent over her, pressing her down hard and with his cock in her ass.

“No more ‘But’ then? No more refusals and discussions?”

“No, I won’t, I’m sorry, I submit, I’m sorry…” she wailed on.

He slapped her cheek to make her stop and she did. He pulled out of her, passed his hand to collect her and his juices from her pussy and ass and pushed it into her mouth. “Suck this.”

And she did.

He untied the ropes that held her legs, but left her hands attached and moved her on her back. She knew what he wanted as he pushed his cock towards her face and gingerly began to lick and suck him. There had been a time when she had refused her own juices; he noticed with satisfaction that she had left that behind. He pulled out of her and offered her his ass; and she began to lick and suck him there with the same eagerness. He was satisfied. His slut at his service.

He let her suck him for a while, alternating between his ass and his cock. Then he grabbed her dildo which she had brought along and slowly pushed it into her ass, deeply. He fucked her with it for a while before pushing it in deeply and leaving it there, he then fingerfucked her pussy briefly and afterwards pushed the same hand into her mouth and began her fucking her pussy. Slowly at first, then faster.

Her battered mind and body was barely able to take in all of it. Her hands were tied, and he was in her mouth, her pussy and, through the dildo, in her ass. Her different emotions and sensations began to line up and she felt like she was swimming in an ocean of wild and unknown pleasure. Her sensations were overreacting on each and every stimulus and had let go of control or the desire to analyse. Her orgasm overwhelmed her and she screamed into his hand that was invading her mouth as wave after wave hit her with unknown strength. She came several times and uncontrollably; feeling as if she had touched the edges of insanity; so strong were her emotions.

When she came to herself again, he pulled the blindfold off her eyes and untied her hands. Her make-up was a mess and she was still crying. For a while, he just let her find back to herself. He was looking at her, the marks all over her body, from her wrists, her arms, down to her ankles. She would have a hard time explaining this to her husband, he chuckled to himself.

The still shaking bundle of emotions he held in his arms looked up at him through her smeared make-up and undried tears.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said.

“And what for, exactly?” he answered. He always liked her to express herself in a detailed way.

“For not letting me go,” she said.

And he could see real gratitude in her eyes.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.


Continue reading Becoming myself

To link to this sex story from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/bdsm/thank-you-sir-2.aspx">Thank You, Sir!</a>

Comments (5)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.

Reason