0 comments/ 65044 views/ 35 favorites Deep Submission By: kalkstein1970 Sarah was on her knees, sucking Master's cock in the way she knew he liked - slow and gentle, teasing, caressing with tongue and lips. Occasionally she would withdraw his stiff dick from her mouth and stroke it gently with her long, slender fingers; another thing he liked was having his frenulum tickled by Sarah's long, manicured nails. She massaged and sucked his balls frequently, too; she had earned enough slaps and sharp reprimands to know that he expected his balls not to be neglected when she serviced him orally. They were in the sumptuous living room of one of his penthouse apartments, one of two Master owned, along with his two country estates and three beach houses. Sarah didn't like coming here. The floors were entirely hardwood, and when she slept, she usually slept poorly, waking up with an aching back and neck. Master required her to sleep on the floor whenever they spent the night together, always at the foot of his bed. Of course, he allowed her to have pillows and blankets, but the fact that she didn't like sleeping on the hard floor of this apartment was something Master simply expected her to deal with, silently, without complaint. And she did - now, at least. Earlier in their relationship, before she had fully learned submission, she had made the mistake of asking him if she could please sleep on his bed, or at least on a sofa, when they stayed in that particular penthouse suite. This request had resulted in three straight nights sleeping on the hard floor with no comforts whatsoever - just her, naked (as he expected her to be whenever they were in private), on the unyielding oak boards. Sarah was young, twenty-seven to be exact, and her body was capable of absorbing a lot of misuse, but nonetheless she had ached for days afterward. She never questioned the sleeping arrangements again. "Mmmmmm..." she heard him moan softly. With his cock deep in her mouth, she risked a glance up at his face. His eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, but she knew he was savoring the blowjob - oral sex was something Master never tired of. She slid his shaft deeper into her mouth, until his pulsing cock head touched the back of her throat. Her lips were closed tightly around the base of his shaft, her nose almost touching his abdomen. As she deep-throated him, she gently caressed his balls in both hands. "Ooohhhhh, fuck..." he whispered. He laid one hand on top of her head. He had large hands, and she took pleasure in having his strong hand on her head while she knelt before him and worshipped his cock and balls. It was a very dominant gesture on his part, and that was why he did it. He was not harsh with his hands, but neither was he especially gentle. Very firm, bordering on rough, was how Sarah thought of it. There was no question of trying to move her head away from his crotch, even if she'd wanted to. He held her close, and she knew what the consequences would be if she should try to stop the blowjob. A sharp pull on her hair at the very least, probably a slap across one cheek and a stern command as well. The thought of his discipline made her pussy damp, as it always did. Her tongue bathed the length of his shaft, stroking it from the head all the way to the root, while it was still buried deep in her throat. She began to moan herself, partly from pure pleasure and partly to create the delicious vibrations in Master's cock that she knew he loved. Another furtive glance at his face confirmed it: a slight smile had creased his mouth, although his eyes were still closed. His cock began to throb urgently in Sarah's mouth, and she took her cue to start sucking and jacking his dick with greater speed and friction. No more teasing now; Master expected her to bring him to orgasm, and she was very skilled at knowing when to stop being gentle and start pushing his body toward ecstasy quickly. She felt his balls tighten in her palm as her other hand stroked the root of his cock fast and hard, and her mouth worked the sensitive head. "Ahhhh, fuck!!" he bellowed abruptly, throwing his head back and arching his hips into Sarah's face. His cock pushed deep into her throat, and she had no choice but to accept it, and clamp down on her gag reflex. When he throat-fucked her it was harder to restrain that reflex than when she was deep-throating his motionless cock. But she managed to open her throat to his bulging head, taking it passively, and in another moment his cock spasmed, and suddenly it seemed her entire mouth was filled with his cum, hot and slightly salty. She closed her eyes, receiving his sperm, her hands massaging his balls to make sure she got every drop. When his orgasm had passed, he withdrew his softening cock from her mouth, and looked down at her expectantly. Sarah knew what he was waiting for. She savored his cum for a moment, then swallowed the load and opened her mouth wide to show him. "Good girl," he said, satisfied. Then he waited while she rose and retrieved some wet wipes from the bathroom, and watched while she knelt again cleaned his cock and balls. Only after she had washed him to his satisfaction was she allowed to see to herself, wiping dribbles and streaks of his cum from her chin and lips. She disposed of the used wipes in the bathroom, and when she returned to the living room Master had buttoned his jeans and refastened his belt, and was sitting on a small loveseat. "Come," he said, gesturing to the floor at his feet. Sarah walked to him and knelt at the spot he had indicated, assuming the position he expected of her: head bowed, hands folded in front of her. She wouldn't have dared sit next to him, even thought there was plenty of room. It was a rare reward to be allowed to sit with him, and it was reserved for special occasions, such as the time she had cleaned and scrubbed the entire interior of one of his beach houses because he had told her he was having a client there for the weekend. That time, he had permitted Sarah to sit at the dinner table with him and the client, who had turned out to be a stunning blonde in her mid-forties, about the same age as Master. She had not been at all surprised when, later that evening, she had heard the two of them fucking in the next room while she lay in front of the fireplace reading a book. Master often fucked other women, but this didn't bother Sarah. She knew she was the only one with whom he shared the special bond of dom and sub. The other women were a momentary pleasure for him; Sarah was a long-term commitment. Thinking about this always made her feel warm inside, somehow, and safe. She knew that Master would look after her, and protect her, and correct her when she needed it, and train her beautifully to be a well-groomed sub. He had always been so good at bringing out Sarah's submissive nature, even early in their relationship, when acknowledging her need to be controlled had made her quite uncomfortable, even angry, and when she had still fought against his inexorable drawing out of who she truly was. He had known her mind better than she herself had, and that was still true. The notion that Master, her firm, strong, confident Master, knew what she needed and when she needed it better than she did was central to their relationship, and was something that she had come to cherish. Sarah knelt before him now, head down, looking at her folded hands with their flawlessly manicured nails (he was very strict in his expectations about her appearance), waiting for him to speak first. It seemed a long time before he did. When he finally addressed her, she kept her head bowed, knowing she was not permitted to meet his eyes until he told her she could. His voice, calm and resonant and measured, sent a shiver of pleasure through her, and she felt her pussy moisten and her clit become hard. "You gave a...satisfactory blowjob, Sarah." This was the custom after each of their sexual encounters, and was part of her ongoing sub training - a critique of her performance. She flushed with pleasure at his words. Coming from him, it was high praise. He did not give compliments often. "Master, may I speak?" she said quietly, eyes still downcast. "You may." "Thank you, Master. I'm happy that you found my work acceptable." "You should be." He crossed his legs, and clasped his hands across one knee. "There are several things that still need to be improved, though." This neither surprised nor disappointed her. Master was very exacting and had high expectations, and Sarah had learned that, with the proper attitude, she could accept his criticisms as he intended them: opportunities for improvement. A sense of gratitude came over her as she listened to his wonderful voice describe in detail the ways in which he expected her to improve her oral sex skills. When he had finished, and had made her recite everything back to him from memory, she gathered her courage and asked: "Master, may I have permission to look at you?" He was silent a moment, and Sarah was afraid she had asked for too much. "Why do you want this?" "Because...well, Master, because I want you to see my eyes, and see how thankful I am that you have given me the opportunity to please you and learn from you." She blushed, realizing how silly it all sounded, when she said it out loud. But he replied, "You may look at me, Sarah." She raised her eyes to his. His eyes hypnotized her; they were a deep brown, and very steady, only blinking very occasionally. In them, she could see all of the traits that made submission to him so pleasurable for her: strength, intelligence, sternness, unwavering commitment, and confidence. Also there was a measure of warmth, but of a kind Sarah had never encountered in men before meeting Master. It was warmth that expressed itself indirectly, through discipline and punishment. She would have considered that a paradox before getting to know Master, but in him she discovered it didn't have to be. And that, she felt, was the essence of why she craved his dominance. He could deliver strict, even harsh, discipline and compassion in the same package. He could spank her or give her a breast flogging or apply cruel nipple clamps, and make her feel well cared-for while he did it. "Thank you so much, Master," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his. "Thank you for allowing me to suck you, and give you pleasure, and for your guidance on how I can become better at serving you orally." He listened to her with a thoughtful expression. He let her finish, and didn't speak. Sarah was not permitted to drop her eyes away from his until he looked away first, so she remained looking up at his ruggedly handsome face from her kneeling position at his feet while he took his time considering her words, keeping her eyes locked on his. She could rarely guess at what he was thinking, and that was true now. His pondering expression betrayed nothing. After what seemed like an eon, he spoke. "Sarah, would you enjoy getting fucked by me?" Her eyes widened and she gasped involuntarily. Master had never fucked her, and she had long since decided he probably never would. The gorgeous women he brought home, she assumed, satisfied his need to fuck. She was occasionally allowed to masturbate, which she thoroughly enjoyed, especially since he always required that she do it in front of him (and sometimes in front of his female guests). But this...she could hardly believe what she had heard. Sarah was so stunned that she didn't answer for several seconds, which earned her a slap across one cheek with one of his big hands. She cried out in pain and shame. "Answer my question, whore," he said sternly, using one of the names for her that he always employed when he was administering discipline. "Would you enjoy getting fucked by me?" Sarah nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, Master, yes, I would love to get fucked by you." He nodded, and looked away from her, out one of the living room's big windows at a purple and red sunset that was beginning to spread across the sky. Sarah, knowing this was her cue, immediately looked back down at her hands. "Yes, you would, wouldn't you," he said thoughtfully, almost to himself. "Having my cock in your pussy and ass would be an experience you would never forget." Sarah remained silent. The thought of Master's beautiful cock, with its large head and thick veins, entering her body made her head swim a little, and her pussy juices began to flow freely. It was all she could do to remain still, and not try to give her poor, aching, horny pussy a little relief by squirming her thighs together. The thought of using her hands was out of the question. She never masturbated without permission, and she was not allowed to ask. She had to wait until he decided to allow it on his own initiative. It was part of her training in self-denial. It could be sheer torture, for just hearing his voice made her wet, and things like sucking his cock or giving him a rimjob made her cunt burn with need. But she managed, through sheer willpower, to stay still with hands folded properly, eyes down, until he spoke again. "You may go to bed now, Sarah," he said, motioning to the bedroom. Confused, she rose and walked toward the open bedroom door. Why had he asked her about fucking? She couldn't think straight; God, her pussy needed attention. It was driving her mad. Sucking his cock and balls, then thinking about that same gorgeous cock driving into her pussy and asshole, made her want to scream with frustration. Juices ran down the inside of her legs. Without even being fully aware she was doing it, Sarah suddenly turned and faced him, and blurted out, "Are you really going to fuck me, Master?" Immediately, she knew she was going to regret what she'd just done. She had spoken and looked him in the face without permission, and she had tried to prompt information from him. His face darkened, and he stood up. "Stand there, Sarah. Don't move." Her breath caught in her throat and she became a statue, standing a few steps away from the bedroom door, nude, turned and facing the loveseat. She knew better than to speak again and apologize for her transgressions. Master walked slowly toward a small cabinet made of polished maple standing in the corner of the living room. He opened it, and took out a black leather riding crop and a pair of nipple clamps. He brought them to Sarah. "Do you know what you did wrong?" he asked in a low voice. "Yes, Master," she replied in a whisper, staring at her feet. Her breasts suddenly felt very vulnerable, and her nipples tightened at the sight of the clamps. Lightning fast, he smacked her ass with the crop. She gasped with pain and surprise. "Louder," he said. "Yes, Master!" she said. "What was it?" "First, I spoke without your permission. Second, I looked you in the face, again without your permission. And third, I requested an explanation of something you said, without first asking if I deserved an explanation." "Very good, whore." He stepped closer, and dropped the riding crop on the floor. "Hands behind your head. Tits out." Obediently, Sarah laced her hands behind her head and pushed her breasts forward as far as she could. They were not large, but were firm and round, and her nipples were exceptionally long and very sensitive. Master proceeded to apply the clamps, first to Sarah's left nipple then her right. Although he did not tighten them a great deal, they still made her moan with pain, and her eyes began to water. In spite of this, she knew what she needed to do. "Master, may I speak?" she said, as clearly as she could. "You may." "Master, thank you for using the clamps on my nipples. The pain reminds me that you are my Master, and that I must obey you." "Hmmm." He reached out and tugged at one of the clamps. Sarah gritted her teeth and suppressed a shriek of pain. She knew he was testing her. He tugged the other clamp, then the first again. Tears began to stream down her face, but she managed to stay silent. Master smiled. "Very good, slut." He bent down and retrieved the riding crop. Sarah groaned inwardly - she had already forgotten about it! Master stroked the end of the crop gently across her forehead, down one cheek, and patted her lips with it. "You didn't forget about this part of your punishment, did you, Sarah?" he asked. As always, she found it comforting that he seemed to know what she was thinking. "May I speak, Master?" "You may." "I did forget about the crop, Master. The pain from my nipple clamps distracted me." He nodded. "I thought so. Open your mouth." She parted her lips, and he slipped the end of the crop into her mouth. "Get it wet." Sarah sucked and licked at the wide leather loop on the end of the crop, as enthusiastically as if it had been Master's cock. "Good." He withdrew the crop from her mouth, leaving her with the taste of leather on her tongue. He stroked the ends of her clamped nipples for a moment with the wet crop, making her gasp with mingled pain and pleasure. Then, he abruptly smacked her left breast, hard. He followed this almost immediately with a harder smack to her right breast. This time Sarah couldn't help but cry out in pain. The burning nipple clamps combined with the shock of the stiff leather against her sensitive breasts was overwhelming. Her cry earned her a third quick, hard swat with the crop, this time across her face. "Quiet, whore. Take the discipline silently." Sarah braced herself mentally for the ordeal. Smack, smack, smack, smack...over and over the crop struck her poor, stinging breasts, always alternating between left and right, with an occasionally glancing blow across the nipple clamps. It seemed to last forever, but somehow Sarah was able to keep silent throughout the session. By the time Master finally relented, and dropped the riding crop to the floor, her face was red with tears and her jaws were clenched as tightly as a vise. Her breasts were covered with red welts, and the flesh felt hot. Her nipples had gone numb at some point, which reminded her that the worst part of the punishment was yet to come. "Are you ready to have your clamps taken off, slave?" he asked. "May I speak, Master?" "Yes." "It doesn't matter whether or not I'm ready, Master. I have learned that you will do as you please, when you please." "Good answer." With that, he unclamped her nipples with two swift motions. The pain was nearly unbearable. The flow of blood returning to the crushed flesh made the nerve endings there scream as if red-hot needles had pierced them. Master saw her tortured expression. "Yes, it hurts. You know this is part of your punishment. Take it like you've been taught." Sarah managed to nod, eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched, hands knotted together in a sweaty tangle behind her head. She didn't utter a sound. After an eternity, the pain subsided into a dull ache that she knew from prior experience would last several hours. "You may go to sleep now." His voice, stern as always, was tinged with compassion. "You accepted your discipline reasonably well." Sarah unclasped her hands and stepped into the bedroom, and lay down gratefully on the floor, her pillow under her head. She drew a blanket over her naked body. The floor didn't bother her, not now, not after the experience of being disciplined with the crop and clamps. After a few minutes, even her aching nipples couldn't prevent sleep from coming over her. -- The next morning, she awoke before dawn, her body having learned to do so automatically, since Master expected her to be up, showered, and have breakfast prepared before he emerged from the bedroom. She accomplished these tasks efficiently, the breakfast taking the longest, as it always did. It was a sumptuous four-course meal with fruit, meats, cheeses, coffee, and freshly squeezed orange juice. Deep Submission After he had come out of the bedroom, dressed in a silk robe, and begun to eat, she remained attentive to his every need, moving quickly between the kitchen and dining room, nude of course, enjoying the way his eyes possessed her body, just by looking at her as she walked. Sarah helped him dress for work, and before he left, he rewarded her with a quick, casual clit massage with one hand. She gasped with pleasure at his rough, firm touch. Then he was gone. Only then did she eat her own breakfast, then clean everything until it was spotless. When that was done, Sarah dressed to go to the gym. Working out took up a significant portion of most days; keeping her body tight and toned pleased Master. When they had met, Sarah had been fifty-five pounds overweight and had been a heavy smoker. Master had cured her of the smoking habit, and the junk food habit, and required her to adopt a rigorous exercise regimen. At first she had hated it like poison, but gradually, as her body changed for the better, so did her attitude. Now, she loved exercising, and missing a day felt like missing one of life's basic needs. She pulled her long auburn hair back into a ponytail, then pulled on red thong panties and a pair of tight white yoga pants through which the thong could easily be seen. Her top was little more than a sports bra; most of her torso was exposed, including the tops of her breasts. The top was tight enough to make her long nipples tent the fabric in an eye-catching way. Her navel was pierced, and for today's workout she put in a glittering diamond stud Master had bought for her last Christmas. She had several navel ornaments that were long and dangly, but these were not allowed at her gym. The management didn't want anyone's jewelry getting caught in a weight machine. The gym was crowded already with early birds getting in a workout before heading to their jobs. Sarah was glad to see a large number of young men there; it meant she hadn't worn the provocative outfit for nothing, which occasionally happened. She decided to start with a warmup walk, and chose an unoccupied treadmill between a twenty-something stud with an athletic physique and an older man with thick, graying hair, chiseled arm and leg muscles, and a wedding ring. Making sure both men were well aware of her presence by bending over several times to retie her shoes and by adjusting her skimpy top, she turned on the treadmill and began her workout. -- That evening, Sarah waited for Master to return from work. She was nude, of course, kneeling in front of the door to the penthouse so that her bowed head would be the first thing he would see upon entering. The door opened and he walked in. She stared down at the floor, waiting for him to speak first. It was several minutes before he did so, during which time he took off his coat, dropped his bag, loosened his tie, and sat down on one of the sofas. "Come here, Sarah," he said. She crawled on all fours to the spot in front of him, then resumed the kneeling position. "How many phone numbers did you collect today?" he asked. "Master, may I speak?" "Yes, Sarah, you may." "Ten, Master. Ten men gave me their phone numbers today." "Hmmmm." He considered this, and Sarah began to worry that it wasn't enough to please him. But then he said, "Did you dress like a slut when you went out today?" She nodded. "Yes, Master. I dressed very provocatively." She described the outfits she had worn that day in great detail, as she knew he expected, beginning with the gym clothes and finishing with the skintight black minidress and six-inch heels she had worn to go grocery shopping. "Good girl." Sarah flushed with pleasure at the compliment. "For ten phone numbers, you have permission to masturbate for ten minutes." "Thank you Master, thank you!" Sarah gushed. She was so fucking horny, and pleasing him made her pussy ache even more. "How would you like me to pleasure myself?" He considered for a moment. "I think the black dildo and the Hitachi wand will suffice." "Yes, Master. Thank you." Sarah rose and fetched the items he had named from the bedroom. The dildo was a thick, veiny one with a flared head that never failed to stretch her pussy deliciously. The Hitachi wand was a large vibrator with a buzzing cylindrical head that was designed to produce agonizing pleasure when applied to a woman's clitoris. Sarah knew that it was extremely effective, having used it many times. Over the next ten minutes (timed by her Master using his Rolex watch), Sarah brought herself to the edge of orgasm no fewer than three times, using the dildo and the wand simultaneously to drive herself nearly mad with teasing pleasure. All three times she begged Master to allow her an orgasm, panting the words between ragged gasps of breath, and each time he denied her. Soon, her pussy juices were pooled on the floor between her legs and her clit was engorged and as erect as any man's cock. Her entire groin area burned with need. It had been several weeks since Master had allowed her to cum, and that had been only one small orgasm, and not very satisfying. What she wanted more than anything was for her Master to bend her body over a chair or a table or a couch and fuck her senseless, fuck her until she begged for mercy, fuck her until she fainted. "Time's up, Sarah," she heard him say through a haze of sexual frustration. She whined softly in the back of her throat with disappointment. She had been holding out the faint hope that he would allow her to cum on the fourth edging, which she was approaching fast. Her poor, aching pussy and clit. Oh, God, she felt like she would die if she didn't cum. Slowly, Sarah rose and took the wand and dildo back to the bedroom and put them away. When she came back, she knew without being told that her next job was to lick up her pussy juices from the floor. Wordlessly, pussy throbbing, she knelt and put her face to the floor. When she was finished, and Master had approved of her work, he said "You may go to bed now, Sarah." The thought of getting fucked by him was still dominating all of her thoughts, especially after the cryptic question he had asked her last night. That, combined with her maddening frustration, made Sarah do the unthinkable. She threw herself at her Master's feet, begging and pleading incoherently that she needed to be fucked, needed his beautiful cock in her pussy and ass, needed him to pound her into submission, fill her holes, take her body in every possible way. A small voice was telling her to stop, that she was going to be severely punished for this, but her aching cunt was much louder than that voice, and she kept groveling at his feet until he cut her off with a sharp command. "Stand up!" Slowly, her heart racing, Sarah stood, keeping her head bowed. "Look me in the eyes," he ordered, standing up himself. Sarah raised her eyes to his. He was a foot taller than her, and she had to tilt her head up slightly to meet his gaze. His rugged face, with its shock of thick black hair, strong nose, and sensual lips now turned down in a slight frown, framed his hypnotic eyes. Sarah, as always, felt like she was drowning in a sweet pool of oblivion when she looked in Master's eyes, her own identity becoming completely subsumed in his. The aching lust in her pussy receded somewhat, for which she was dimly grateful. He held her in his eyes for what seemed an eternity. Sarah was vaguely aware of a clock in the kitchen ticking away in the silence of the apartment. Finally, he laid one hand gently against her cheek, and stroked it. It was all she could do not to squirm with pleasure at his touch. Then he spoke. "Sarah, are you very horny?" His resonant voice sent a thrill down her spine. "Does your cunt ache? Does your clit throb?" He continued stroking her cheek, very lightly. "Does your pussy need to be filled and stretched and pounded?" His dirty talk was having its intended effect. Sarah's knees began to feel shaky, and her poor needy pussy began to dampen again. But she kept her eyes on his, and her hands folded in front of her, and managed to keep still. Master laid one hand on Sarah's head and began to run his strong fingers through her hair. She sighed with pleasure. "Master, may I speak?" she said in a hoarse whisper. "You may." "Master, yes, I need to be fucked so badly," she said in the same whisper. "Louder," he said sternly, pulling roughly at her hair. "Master, I really need to be fucked! My dirty cunt needs to be stretched. My filthy clit needs to be sucked and pinched. My asshole needs a cock! Oh, God, Master, I need it!" "Beg." Sarah immediately dropped to her knees, her head still tilted up, now at an uncomfortable angle, keeping her eyes on her Master's since he hadn't yet told her she could do otherwise. "Please, please, please, Master. Please allow me to be fucked in my pussy and ass. Oh, God, please, please..." She trailed off into a series of low whimpers. Her hands wanted so fucking badly to masturbate her cunt, she practically had to kneel on them to keep them still. He gazed down at her with some amusement. "I've trained you to beg very well, Sarah. Haven't I?" "Yes, Master, I'm so grateful to you that you have taught me to beg like a little submissive slut," she said breathlessly. "I love begging you, Master." She meant every word. "Suck my cock," he ordered. Immediately Sarah unzipped his pants and slipped his cock out of his briefs. After a minute or so of working it with her hands, it was fully erect, and she began to suck. To her surprise, after only a couple of minutes, he ordered her to stop. His cock was rock hard now, and precum oozed from the tip. "Stand." Sarah stood up and faced him, head bowed. Her pussy juices were running down her thighs now, as they always did when she blew him. "Kneel in front of that table," he said, pointing to a low coffee table. Hope bloomed in Sarah's mind. Was her Master really going to fuck her? She couldn't believe it. Her mind buzzed with anticipation and lust. She moved to the table and knelt in front of it. Master stepped behind her and pushed her down onto the table. Her breasts pressed against the cool wood surface. She was acutely aware of her exposed cunt and ass; every slight movement of air against them seemed to stimulate her even more. She couldn't help squirming her ass a little. "Stay still," he ordered. Sarah managed to stop, but barely. Oh, God, her cunt ached. Master stood directly behind her, between her legs, then knelt himself, so his calves pressed against the insides of hers and their knees were touching. She realized that he had taken off his shoes, pants, and briefs - she could feel the length of his hard shaft brush against one ass cheek. She caught her breath at the exquisite sensation. She kept her face against the tabletop, head turned to the left. Suddenly, roughly, he used his knees to force Sarah's legs further apart. Her ass dropped slightly, and his cock brushed against her again, but this time against her sopping pussy instead of her ass. She stifled a moan. "Quiet." He then leaned forward slightly and placed both hands on small of her back, with some of his weight resting on them. The pressure made breathing a little more difficult, but she enjoyed the feel of his hands. His cock was so close to her pussy lips that she could feel the heat coming off it in waves. In her mind she screamed, Please fuck me, for God's sake, shove that thing inside me! "Do you feel me near your slutty little cunt, Sarah?" he said. "May I speak, Master?" she asked, her voice trembling and her words a little distorted because the side of her face was pressed against the table. "Yes, whore, you may speak to your master." "Yes, Master, I feel your beautiful manhood close to my slutty cunt. It feels so wonderful." "Do you deserve to be fucked, Sarah?" "No Master, no, I don't deserve that, I am just a dirty whore and I don't deserve the pleasure of being fucked." "Good answer." Then, Sarah felt one of his hands leave her back, and then the entire length of his shaft was pressed hard against her burning slit. "Ooohhh, fuck!" she blurted out. This earned her a hard smack on her ass. "Be quiet," he commanded, then continued to press his cock lengthwise against her drenched pussy lips. She felt its sensual heat and pulsing veins in every nerve ending, and sensations exploded in her mind like fireworks. It took every ounce of willpower she had to stay quiet. She wanted to scream as the pleasurable frustration mounted and became torture. But he would not relent. For an eternity of minutes he massaged her slippery cunt and engorged clit with his shaft, sliding it up and down, now pushing it a little further between her lips, now drawing it out a little. Occasionally, he would use his cock to slap her asshole lightly, and when he did Sarah had to grit her teeth to keep from shrieking; her anus had always been nearly as sensitive as her cunt. She was sweating now, and her hands clenched the edge of the coffee table in a trembling, white-knuckled grip. She began to think she might actually go crazy, as the torment went on and on, and her Master teased her without mercy. At last, he stopped. He gave her cunt one final swat with his cock, and stood up. Sarah, panting and sweating freely, wanted to cry with disappointment. Wasn't he going to fuck her? But she didn't dare ask him. She remembered the session with the crop and nipple clamps too well. "Stand," he ordered. Sarah got up slowly, her knees trembling, her pussy on fire. Her inner thighs were smeared with her own drying juices. "Go into the bedroom." He followed her in, and ordered her to lie on the bed, face up. The bed was a four-poster, and leather restraints dangled from each post. After she had lain down, he cuffed her wrists. Then he retrieved two long pieces of soft nylon rope from a closet, and tied one to each of Sarah's ankles. She wondered silently what was coming as she watched his preparations. He had never bound her like this before. He looped each rope around one of the bedposts to which her wrists were cuffed, and pulled them both at once, forcing Sarah's legs upward and apart. He tied both ropes off to the other two bedposts, making sure they were tight by pulling hard on each one. Sarah was now immobilized on her Master's bed, helpless, pussy and ass completely exposed by her raised and spread legs. She began to tremble slightly with nervous anticipation. He stood over her naked body and measured her silently with his eyes. She did not meet his gaze, but felt it owning every part of her - legs, cunt, ass, breasts, nipples, face. He was still naked from the waist down, and his cock was still fully erect. It bounced and twitched gently. She stared at it hungrily. "Do you love this cock, slut?" he said abruptly. "May I speak, Master?" "You may." "Yes, Master, I love your big, beautiful cock. I dream about it. I love to stroke and suck it." "Do you want this cock inside your pussy and ass?" She nodded rapidly. "Oh, yes, Master, yes, I need it!" Without another word he turned away from the bed and went into one of the walk-in closets. She heard him moving things around in there, and her eyes widened in shock when he emerged. He was carrying a fucking machine. It consisted of a small electric motor in a metal frame. The motor drove a flywheel that was attached to a long metal rod. At the end of the rod was a thick rubber dildo, at least ten inches long, heavily ridged with veins, and probably two inches in diameter. The bulbous head was studded with raised rubber bumps. Sarah stared at the machine, and particularly the dildo, in disbelief. "But Master, I thought you were going to fuck me!" she whined, forgetting his rules completely. He didn't respond. He placed the fucking machine on the bed against the footrail, with the rod and dildo pointing towards Sarah's cunt. A long electrical cord trailed away from the motor onto the floor. Then he went to a nightstand next to the bed and removed a ball gag. He strapped it firmly into place in Sarah's mouth. She accepted it passively, knowing this was her punishment for whining. But then he went further: he took a black leather blindfold from the nightstand, and placed it across Sarah's eyes. Sarah tried to speak, to beg him not to blindfold her, but the ball gag turned her words to muffled grunts. She struggled uselessly against the restraints. She didn't like darkness, and on the rare occasions when he had blindfolded her in the past, it had been for severe transgressions of his rules. In a moment, he had secured the blindfold tightly in place, and Sarah was in complete darkness. She heard him move around to the foot of the bed. More sounds told her he was plugging in the fucking machine. Her heart pounded, and fresh, clammy perspiration broke out on her forehead. She tried desperately to find any hint of light through the blindfold, but there was nothing. Then she felt the mattress bounce a little as he adjusted the position of the machine, and suddenly the cold rubber head of the dildo was pressed firmly against her damp pussy lips. The head parted them slightly, and she could feel the hard little rubber bumps against the exquisitely sensitive inner surfaces of her labia. She squirmed against it, helpless to keep from trying to grind on the dildo and derive some scrap of sexual pleasure from it. "Mmmmmm, my little whore likes that cock, doesn't she?" Master said. "Answer me." "Yes, Master, it feels good, Master." "That's good, whore, because that cock is going to fuck you in a moment. It is going to fuck you senseless." Sarah struggled frantically against her restraints. She tried to cry out and beg him to stop, to tell him that she was sorry for breaking his rules and for being such a bad whore. But the ball gag made that impossible. "Calm down, slut. This is for your own good. This is part of your training." His soothing voice relaxed her a little, and she stopped struggling. "Good. You are not receiving this treatment because you broke any rules. This would have happened anyway. Your final lesson in submission is learning how to submit, utterly and completely, to being fucked. To being fucked as hard and as long as your master desires. To having your body violated and possessed beyond what you think you can endure. This will push your limits a great deal, whore. This will be very hard for you. I tell you this so you know to prepare yourself. I tell you this because I care about you." Sarah's mind was reeling. He wasn't angry with her after all! And, he had never come out and expressed verbally any feelings toward her of any kind. The fact that he now said he cared about her made her shiver with pleasure at the same time as it made her nervous. If he was saying this, it could only mean that the ordeal ahead would be very difficult indeed. She heard movement at the foot of the bed, and felt the head of the dildo invade her cunt a little deeper. She sucked in her breath, trying not to panic. It felt fucking huge, and she knew only the tip was inserted so far. Oh, God, she thought, this thing is going to rip me in half. But, within her panic, she had to acknowledge a core of pure horny lust, a lust that didn't give a shit how big the dildo was, as long as it was going to fuck her, and fuck her hard. "I am going to turn the machine on now, slut. I will start at the slowest speed." Sarah braced herself, trying to measure her breathing, using techniques she had learned in yoga classes to calm herself mentally. But when the machine clicked on, and she heard the motor whir into life, and the rough thick rubber of the dildo slowly pushed into her body, she forgot all about breathing methods, and yoga, and calm. Shrieking through the ball gag, she struggled blindly against the tight restraints, trying instinctively to bring her legs together, to protect herself against the violation. The wetness of her cunt didn't seem to help; it felt as if the dildo were splitting her down the middle like a wishbone. Behind the blindfold her eyes were wide with unseeing agony as her pussy was stretched brutally by the hard rubber. She was impaled on a thick rubber spike that drove mercilessly into her, the bulbous head pushing at the walls of her cunt passage, rudely spreading them apart to make room for the shaft. The muscles in there tried feebly to resist, and although they were quite strong from her exercise regimen, they were useless against the fucking machine's inexorable force. She jerked and thrashed on the bed, tried to pull herself off the dildo - it was all in vain. She was trapped in a world of dark, stretching agony. Deep Submission Suddenly, the dildo stopped and reversed direction. She felt like weeping with relief as she felt it slowly slide back out of her throbbing pussy, and felt the walls of her cunt relax. At last, its entire length was withdrawn. She only had a moment's respite before the machine began to push the cruelly thick rubber cock back in. She moaned helplessly as the process repeated itself all over again. She was exhausted, she realized, and had been weeping; she felt tears running down her temples from behind the blindfold. Again, the dildo invaded her deeply, probing her, stretching her, making her feel as if she would break in two. Again, she instinctively tried to pull away from it, but couldn't. Her head thrashed up and down as shrieking sobs escaped her throat. Then she heard her Master's voice. "Are you listening, slut?" Sarah nodded frantically. "Good. The machine will fuck you on the lowest setting for one hour. Then, I will give you a short rest. Then the fucking will resume, at the next faster setting. I will be here with you during this experience. I will not leave this room." Sarah's mind rebelled against the words. An hour? She would fucking die! "You will pass this test, slut. I have confidence." She drew some small comfort from his voice, which, as always, was calm and made her think of safety. The next hour passed in a haze for Sarah. The dildo would push into her up to the hilt, then withdraw, then push in again, then withdraw. Over and over and over, until Sarah lost all track of time, her mind filled completely by the sensations coming from her pussy. At some point during the session, she realized dimly that being penetrated by the fucking machine did not hurt quite so much as it had at first, although it still made her groan with pain through the ball gag every time it shoved between her pussy lips. The hard bumps on the head and the ridged veins were the worst - they added an extra kick of pain on top of the stretching delivered by the thick head and shaft. And fuck! It was so fucking long! It pushed deeper into her than she had ever imagined possible. It felt like the head was pushing against her ribcage when the dildo was all the way in. But, gradually, the pain diminished somewhat, and was slowly replaced by exquisite pleasure. As her pussy muscles adjusted to being invaded over and over, her pleasure center slowly took over, and after some time Sarah was crying out through her gag as much from delight as from pain. The dragging friction created by the bumps and ridges against the walls of her cunt began to feel intensely sweet, and Sarah began anticipating each new thrust of the machine with greedy lust rather than fear. At one point, she realized she was arching her hips into the dildo, trying to get it in deeper, instead of trying to pull away from it. And then, shortly after that, the tingling beginnings of an orgasm sizzled through her groin, and she sucked her breath in. It built quickly, in response to the slow, rhythmic strokes of the fucking machine, and soon she was trembling on the edge of cumming, every muscle in her body taught, eyes squeezed shut behind her blindfold, oblivious to everything in the world except the ecstasy about to burst over her like a thunderstorm. Then, abruptly, the dildo was removed and the fucking stopped. Sarah cried out in frustrated agony through the ball gag. "Your hour is up, slut," her Master said. She had forgotten he was even there. "You may rest for ten minutes." He removed her ball gag, but not her blindfold. She almost spoke without permission, but caught herself at the last moment. "May I speak, Master?" Her voice was hoarse from screaming. "You may, whore." "Master, please, please, please, put it back in. Please let me get fucked some more. Oh, God, it felt so good! Please, please..." Her begging trailed off into a whimper. "I knew you would enjoy it, slut. The answer is no, not until you have rested." Sarah slumped in her restraints, trying to contain her disappointment. Her Master released her arms and legs from their bonds, and allowed her to sit up and use the bathroom, leading her by the hand. When she was finished, he led her back to the bed, and gave her a glass of cold water. She drank it in three gulps. Then, she felt his hands on her wrists, then on her legs, massaging the areas where the restraints had been. "May I speak, Master?" "Yes, slut, you may speak." "Thank you for massaging me, Master. And thank you for releasing me so that I could relieve myself, and for giving me water." He didn't answer, but kept massaging. Sarah took that as acceptance of her gratitude, and pleasure coursed through her exhausted body. After a few minutes, he bound her to the bed again, her legs raised and spread as before. This time, Sarah anticipated the fucking with eagerness rather than fear, anticipated the ecstasy that the dildo would soon bring her dripping, ravaged pussy. She accepted the ball gag serenely, not caring at all now that she could not speak or cry out. Her Master, satisfied her restraints were tight, went to the foot of the bed. She heard him doing something with the fucking machine, and felt the bed jiggle slightly. Then he spoke. "During this session, you will be fucked on a faster setting, about half again as fast as the first time. Also, I have replaced the dildo with a larger one." Sarah's breath stuck in her throat. Larger? How was that possible? She felt her legs, seemingly of their own free will, suddenly try to close to protect her vulnerable cunt. Of course, the restraints prevented this, and all she managed was a feeble squirm. "Stop moving, whore," he commanded, sounding displeased. Sarah stopped immediately. She heard him come up beside her head, and a moment later he lifted the blindfold away from her eyes. She squinted, the light in the room overwhelming her for a few moments, although it was night outside and the room was actually quite dim. After her eyes had adjusted, her Master said, "I've temporarily removed your blindfold so you can see what will be fucking you for the next hour, slut. Lift your head and look down at the machine." Sarah obeyed, raising her head on a neck that was sore from thrashing during the previous fucking sessions. Through her sweaty hair, which was pasted to her forehead and hung in her eyes, she saw the new dildo. She nearly screamed. It was at least two inches longer than the first, and thicker by at least a half-inch. Unlike the other dildo, this one was not designed to be lifelike. Other than its phallic shape, it bore no resemblance to a real cock. It was a shiny white cylinder that tapered to a blunt point. Sarah couldn't tell what it was made of. But what truly made her tremble were the small black studs, dozens of them, protruding from every side of the dildo. They were maybe an eighth of an inch high, but looked much bigger to Sarah as she lay helpless with this cruel-looking object between her spread legs, aimed directly at her poor, aching pussy. "The dildo is aluminum coated with enamel," her Master said, startling her. She had momentarily forgotten he was still beside her. She let her head fall back onto the pillow. She carefully avoided looking him in the face, since he had not given permission for this. "It is extremely hard and unyielding, and also very cold. It will feel like you are being fucked by...a robot of some kind." Sarah began to weep silently. Tears trickled down the sides of her head. "Stop crying, slave. You know I would not put you through this if it were not ultimately for your benefit." He paused, placing one hand on Sarah's left breast, and taking her nipple casually between his thumb and forefinger. He did not squeeze it or make any other movement; he simply let his hand and fingers rest there. "During this session, slut, you will have an orgasm. In fact, you will have many orgasms. By the end of it, I expect you to be begging for the orgasms to stop. But, as I said earlier this evening, it will not stop. The machine is merciless, and only stops when I turn it off. And I will not turn it off until one hour is up. Do you understand?" Sarah nodded slowly. She had managed to stop weeping, but her chest still heaved with panicky breathing, and her heart was pounding. Suddenly, Master pinched her nipple viciously. Sarah screamed into the gag. He continued to pinch brutally hard, rolling the nipple back and forth as he did so. Sarah thrashed her head back and forth, muffled shrieks issuing from her throat. Finally, he relented. "That, slave, was your punishment for your earlier transgressions." Sarah, her mind clouded with pain from her burning nipple, at first didn't know what he meant. Then she remembered throwing herself at his feet and begging him to fuck her, all of it without permission. It made sense now: her Master often delayed his discipline, sometimes for days, then delivered it when she expected it least, reminding her of what the punishment was for. It was one of many ways in which he exerted his dominance. Sarah felt a deep appreciation now, an appreciation for how thoroughly Master knew her deepest mind, and how perfectly he knew how to bring out her submission. "Do you have something you want to say, slut?" he asked her. Sarah nodded eagerly. He removed her gag. She was still blindfolded. "Master, may I speak?" "You may." "Master, thank you so much for the punishment you just gave me. Your little whore is grateful." "I know you are." He replaced the gag, then went back to the end of the bed. Sarah tried to prepare her body and mind for what was coming, but panic threatened to cloud her thinking again. She felt him shift the machine, and suddenly the tip of the dildo parted her wet pussy lips. It felt to her, from the way the rounded tip flared, that the thing was a mile wide. Then she felt one of the black studs tickle the inside of her labia. Just as had happened with the first dildo, all thought of bracing herself left her completely, and blind panic took over. "Don't move." Master's voice was menacingly low. He had obviously sensed the return of her fear. Sarah didn't move, but she could not control her breathing. She began to pant through her nose in short, harsh gasps. A low keening sound began to issue from her throat. She was hardly aware of it, and her Master seemed not to notice at all. Then he turned on the machine. -- Later, when Sarah lay dozing in a mixture of exhaustion and deep sexual satisfaction, she would realize that the second session, with the metal dildo, was the real beginning of her transformation into a true submissive. The first one, with the black dildo, had only been an introduction to the fucking machine. It hadn't forced her to plumb the depths of her nature, and dig deep within herself for the mental reserves to accept the brutal invasions of her body to which her Master subjected her. She would reflect quietly back on the session with the cruelly hard metal dildo as a turning point in her training, one which no doubt her Master had been planning for months, carefully observing her progress as his submissive, gauging whether she was ready for this final phase. It made her feel good. As she drifted in and out of sleep, she relived the second fucking session in her mind, relishing the memory. The black studs turned out to be more than just bumps. They were tiny vibrators, controlled remotely by her Master. He turned them on and off at random throughout the fucking session. It drove her to the very edge of insanity, not knowing when her concentration would be broken by the intensely pleasurable buzzing up and down the length of her cunt, like a thousand little fingers stimulating all of her pleasure nerves at once. She needed all of her concentration to accept the invasion of the hard white dildo's girth and length. If the black cock had felt as if it were touching her ribcage, this one seemed to reach all the way to her neck when it was fully inserted. And it stretched her to the point where she fully expected her cunt to tear open. The first few strokes were so painful she actually passed out briefly, but as soon as her Master activated the vibrating studs for the first time, her eyes flew open behind the blindfold and she jerked and thrashed against her bonds. After more strokes in and out of her throbbing cunt, and more vibrating, Sarah realized how much pleasure the vibrations were delivering to her bewildered, pain-fogged mind. The pleasure helped her overcome the agony of the dildo shaft, helped her relax somewhat and begin to accept what was being done to her, rather than fighting it. Gradually, very gradually, her screams subsided into moans, and her hips started to move of their own accord in rhythm with the fucking machine, maximizing the feel of the studs (which was quite pleasant even when they weren't vibrating) and accommodating the dildo as much as she could. It went on and on and on, an eternity that began with pain and merged seamlessly into pleasure. After a time, the pleasure began to intensify, and she understood that Master was increasing the frequency with which he activated the vibrators. The buzzing happened more and more often, until it was nearly continuous, and she found herself pushed inexorably toward orgasm. In the back of her mind, she prayed silently that Master would finally allow her to cum, then remembered that he had told her explicitly that she would, and felt relief. But mostly what she felt was her first orgasm in weeks, building and building like a tidal wave until it was so large it dwarfed Sarah, dwarfed her rational, conscious mind. When it finally broke over her, she gave herself over to it wholly, losing herself in its glorious depths. The orgasm must have made her pass out, because the next thing she realized she was opening her eyes into the eternal darkness of the blindfold, her throat raw from shrieking with pleasure, tears leaking out of her eyes. Her pussy had the warm afterglow that she hadn't felt in a long time. It was wonderful. The fucking machine kept right on fucking her. It felt good now that she had stopped struggling against it and accepted its invading presence like a good sub, and of course Master continued to activate the vibrating studs, although less frequently than he had been right before she came. She discovered she had begun to enjoy the feel of the huge dildo sliding in and out of her satisfied cunt, something she wouldn't have thought possible just a short time earlier. Soon, though, Master began to turn the buzzing studs on more frequently, just as he had before, and Sarah's pussy began to throb urgently. She felt a second orgasm mount, not as intense as the first, but still very nice. Sarah relaxed into it, letting the buzzing, stroking dildo carry her through it, crying out only once this time as she climaxed. Then she slumped against her restraints, the post-orgasmic glow in her pussy fading more quickly this time. And still the fucking machine kept thrusting the dildo in and out of her body, never slackening its pace, never tiring. And Master kept turning the vibrations on and off at irregular intervals, so she never knew when to expect it, nor when it would end once it started. Sarah's exhausted pussy began to pulse again, and she moaned softly through the ball gag. She was so fucking tired! But she had no choice but to ride the buzzing dildo to a third orgasm, this one not nearly as pleasant as the first two. Her pussy muscles spasmed as the climax passed, clenching against the hard metal, and she struggled feebly. And still the dildo kept pounding her without mercy. The studs kept vibrating, then stopping, then vibrating again. The machine's motor kept up its low whir. Sarah's breathing became ragged. She was drained, her ability to physically bear having an orgasm spent. And yet she had no choice. Her own body betrayed her as the pleasure began once again to build. Moaning loudly, sweating, Sarah felt a fourth orgasm tear through her body. And tearing was exactly what it felt like now. The pleasure was there, but her brain no longer seemed capable of processing it. Her pleasure center seemed to have gone numb. The ecstasy of orgasm had become hollow and meaningless, leaving only a rubbery wrenching spasm of her cunt muscles. Vaguely it occurred to Sarah that this was what orgasms must feel like when stripped of the pleasure component. It was horrid. The fucking machine didn't stop, nor did the vibrating studs. Too weak now to struggle, Sarah lay exhausted and sweat-soaked as the next orgasm built and built, seeming never to reach its peak. She became aware that she was trying to speak through the ball gag, trying to beg her Master to stop the machine, to plead with him that she was too tired, that she couldn't take it anymore. But no words came out. Finally, this new orgasm gripped her cunt cruelly and clenched it in a merciless fist. Sarah groaned loudly, and began crying. The orgasm faded, and still the dildo kept fucking her, until it seemed to Sarah that there had never been a time when it hadn't been fucking her. As far back as she could remember, this unyielding shaft with its buzzing little bumps had been pounding her cunt, had been doing so for years, and would continue to do so forever. Another orgasm, then another, then another, wrenched her body as if it were a rag doll. For a while she continued groaning and trying to beg, then became too weak even for that, and began to accept her torment silently. The orgasms merged into one another and became an endless silent agony of clenching muscles and nameless sensations sizzling along nerve pathways that were worn and frayed. Her mind came loose from reality like a boat that has come untied from its mooring and has begun to drift away into unknown waters. Gently, quietly, Sarah spiraled downward toward oblivion. And still the fucking machine whirred on, and on, and on. -- Some time later, Sarah became dimly aware that the machine had stopped, that the dildo was no longer in her body, and that her restraints were gone. It was like floating toward the bright surface of a lake, and seeing shapes above the water, though; these realizations were shapeless images that she could barely make out. The one sensation of which she was keenly aware was that her pussy ached terribly. Then she sank again into darkness. -- Sarah opened her eyes. This time, she really was awake, and the first thing she noticed was that she was in her Master's bed. She sat up in surprise. She was naked, and her pussy still throbbed, although the pain had dulled somewhat and was not entirely unpleasant. Everything between her legs felt warm and...drained. Her wrists and knees where the restraints had been fastened were a little sore, and she saw red marks there, but her Master had apparently treated them with some kind of soothing ointment, and Sarah felt a rush of gratitude. The machine was gone. So were the cuffs and the ropes. The bedroom's big bay window was thrown open, and sunlight and a cool morning breeze streamed into the room. Sarah sat in the middle of Master's luxuriant bed, the sheets pooled around her waist, her nipples beginning to stiffen a bit in response to the cool air against them. She shivered pleasantly. But where was her Master? She guessed by the sunlight that it was late morning, so he was probably at the office. She still couldn't quite believe he had allowed her to spend the night in his bed. She lay back down, on her stomach, her head turned so she could look at the warm sunshine in the window. She lay there for a long time, feeling so satisfied and...fulfilled - that was the right word, fulfilled - that she couldn't imagine ever wanting to move again. Eventually, though, her bladder and her grumbling stomach drove her out of the warm bed. Walking stiffly, her inner thigh muscles quivering a little and her pussy aching, she went to the bathroom and relieved herself, then went out to the kitchen. There, she got her second surprise of the morning.