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Total Power

By: defertoher



Wrist rubbed red from hours in ropes. A blindfold bleached from catching sweat from a soggy blonde mop. Chapped lips chew a cherry ball gag. A worn chest welted by kisses from the whip. A lower back arches aching from hours in the stockage. His quads quaking, his butt asking for a seat, and his feet swelling in his fashionable high heels. The best part filled with cum, aching bruised black and blue, or blue with frustration.

My boy hangs in the shackles of his own fetish. A masculine journey to find that which will only shrink his ego and violently violate all that society expects of him. Panties pulled up his legs free him by lifting the weight of his heavy manhood. The indecisive whip hovers above his most sensitive part focusing his attention on all that is most precious to him. Shall it fall? It must land without mercy and grind him into the floor. A piece of him trying to be discarded, distanced, or at least denied. His pain resonates within him while his burden continues without him.

As his master, I represent that which is no longer attainable. The boy or girl whose clumsy teenage games frustrated his futile attempts to fulfill his most consuming self-manipulation. His potential partner in sexual exploration sending confused signals which sapped his manhood and send him searching for a perverted potency in the form of a powerful sadist. A deceitful partner is what he now craves, and an easy mark is what he has become. His sexual identity forever defined by childish misunderstandings. I'm his sweetheart, his coach, and his most loved antagonist. His emotional exhibitionism is his gift to me which I will only mock in return. His open-hearted desire for the partner that can never exist will be understood, encouraged, and almost delivered in a perpetually just-out-of-reach future by his most trusted enemy.

I can see his pain and feel his suffering. It is a great fire that will consume him that I must quell it with gasoline. I see his soul, because he has given it to me along with the instructions to its incarnation. I know why he needs me to humiliate him. To tell him that I see him for all that he is, only to disgrace him with vulgar displays of power. His self-possession is up for sale, and the cost is too low to be reasonable. I plead with his naive emotions. Saving him would be easy but is it not a goal.

Tonight, his masculinity is too much. His unmoored desires have festered. He is beaten and will be beated. His life's desire, his last unfilled wish rest between my legs. It is projection of a thousand people, a thousand encounters, and a thousand misinterpretations. I lower him to his back and remove his gag. He is thankful, thinking this is finally his time. This is when his sexual life finally make sense and a thousand years of pain will be relieved. I kiss him cruelly. I start to relieve his pain, and his beautiful masculinity springs to life. His latest frustration being architected by me. I lower myself onto his mouth moving the last chess pieces into place. His over-eager tongue is punished with a well placed squeeze, and he is reminded to follow my protocol His pleads for release are denied in the tenor of all the women and men who used him before. His throbbing, needy manhood is being sucked by it is his soul that is being eaten. 

I'm finally being pleased in the manor I expect. His low self-worth has ensured me a worthwhile sexual experience motivated by overcompensation. I'm grateful I am not the one easily broken. I'm grateful that I'm not the one with the gaping, public knowledge wound. I'm grateful to have gotten my own release on his face. Too easily distracted by his own self-imprisonment, he must be reminded of his inadequacy as a lover. He must have his impotency played back constantly. I bring our uncaring love to a halt as he continues to try to please me. No words are said as he searches for clues to his helpless situation. I get close to my weak slave. With the cold command and confidence that comes from knowing your prey, I whisper a nightmare to him. All of his poorly camouflaged weakness exposed. I delight in his squirming mental state. My spit conveys my contempt for this sexual being. I threaten to steal all that makes him a man which makes my power absolute and my domination of his sex assured. 

I walk to the door of the dungeon. His tears break my heart. His frail body in need of protection and rest are held taunt by my ropes. His blindfold blocks what he sees, but together we have blocked what he should know about himself. His most prized piece topples between his legs. His denial of rapturous oblivion after such tight proximity was unfair, criminal, and delightful. It makes my soul sink to see someone I know so well laying in the aftermath of such abuse. I turn out the lights as he chokes a whimper. I lock the dungeon door. My business appointment is here, and I must meet them.

After the meeting, one of the sons of my business partner lingers. He manipulates his mother by telling her that he is going to see a friend nearby. Both he and I know the truth about his intent. He is a young male dressed in frat boy chic. His bulging pants are his first tell. His stories of moist virgins and a big reputation reek of arrogance and therefore a disguised weakness. I play the naif well. His words pass through me, but his secret message play at megaphone volume. He is here for a partner, but he will be getting a master. His predictable self-disclosures are too trusting and poorly strategized. I walk to him and take off his Braves cap. I treat him like a man even though he is still very much a boy. His impetuous fumbles are quickly ceased with an accusation of virginity. His shock is meet with my understanding and patience. My first time overtaking him. My first time serving him a cocktail of humiliation and attraction. It is the first taste of a love only I have ever given him. 

He is hungry for more. I pretend he understands my musing on sex. He pretends to not think about his fantasies. I send him a mixed message, eye him down, and hold a silence. He takes off his Abercrombie and Fitch while looking at me for approval. He accepts my command to kneel. My boy in the basement moans. The kneeling juvenile ask about the sound. My crotch in his face intoxicates him. I want to show him the consequences of his masculinity in the basement. I want to give him his clothes and shepherd him to the right track. I also want to hear what his most frustrated moan sounds like. I want his maladapted love. I want to know his desires and dangle it in front of him. I want to know his secrets and hurt him with them. 

Another moan from the soul I tourture. I ask, "That sound?". He nods and his doe eyes look up to me wanting the purest truth. I know he is mine for the taking, but I'll give him one last chance to leave me and discover a love devoid of his own humiliation and degradation. I lean over and lock eyes with him. In my most earnest and loving voice, I give him one last warning, "that's the sound of our future." He has heard my words, but I'm unsure if he heard my message. It washes over him. His minds works its meaning. He has his answer. He leans in for a kiss surrendering to that which he will probably never understand. I reject him for impropriety and con him into closing his eyes. My hands feels down his chest then lower and lower. The cold steel of chastity envelops him as I lock him up. I kiss his head thankful he is now mine. His shock causes him to cry, but my fresh lamb has not felt my full sadism. I demand that he put on his clothes and leave immediately. He asks about the metal now limiting favorite toy. I tell him that he is free to come back next month. He realizes that he desires me, but I only desire his autonomy. I tell him that I love him very much and dismiss him. He leaves, and I watch him walk away. He will adjust to his new life like he adjust his gait to my control.

Total Power Ch. 00: Intro



First attempt... if people like it, I'll keep writing on and developing the story (next chapter hinted at at the end). If people like it, I'll probably use this to explore all kinds of kinks involved in BDSM: bondage, whipping, trampling, humiliation, etc.

*****

Mistress stared down at me coldly as she enters the sparsely lit room. Of course, when I came in for the session an hour ago, she'd immediately made me get down on all fours with just a flick of her wrist, her index finger pointing to the ground. Just that act was enough for me to understand my place in this situation: she was the goddess who towered above me, and I was her slave whose sole purpose in life was to serve her. In her divine way, she could make me get down on all fours without even uttering a word, as I was hers to control.

For me, this complete power and dominance was what brought me to BDSM in the first place. I wasn't so much interested in the pain that someone could inflict upon me (although I most certainly don't mind it), but rather the ability of someone else to completely control the other person through sheer persona. Dommes had this aura around them that always made me realize how superior they were to me, and so I was always willing to submit my will to theirs. Mistress was no exception.

After making me get down on all fours, she softly whispered 2 words: "get ready." They flew gently out of her lips, soft as wind blowing through an open window, and seemed to land right inside my head, because as soon as she said it I knew exactly what to do. She slowly raised her elegant right arm and pointed to a rack to the left of me, lined to the top with different types of latex body suits in case I wanted to wear them. Then she turned around to walk inside another room. I knew from that moment that today was going to be a special session. Never before had mistress allowed me to see her finely shaved ass switch in a mesmerizing patter from left to right through her pre-session dress (which is a tight executive short skirt and a suit artistically opened towards the top to tease her fantastic bosom). Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, I quickly did what I knew I must: stripped down to everything except my boxers, and put on a chest harness for fun later in the night.

I stood in Her main dungeon for a good half-hour, and not once did I ever have any thoughts of leaving. Mistress knew exactly what she was doing: there was nothing to get a slave going like making him wait on all fours for his Mistress to stride in with all her glory. My knees and palms grew tired and started to ache towards the end, but this was just the beginning. I knew She wouldn't be satisfied until I couldn't walk straight enough to even leave her building, so this pain wasn't even the appetizer... it was just walking into a restaurant of high desires and complete power.

Finally, the door of Mistress's special room opened. I had never been inside it, but always wondered what was in there exactly. Ever since I had started coming to her dungeon, my dick always got excited as soon as she started walking towards that room. It knew that there was where she got ready, putting on one from her endless selection of latex, leather, and lace lingerie, alongside all sorts of accessories. I had made it clear from the very beginning that the best way for her to make me obey is to walk in wearing body-hugging latex or leather apparel on the bottom, some sort of corset in the top, and a tall pair of stilettos so that even if I was blindfolded, I could hear her walking around me, deciding how to punish me next.

Today, Mistress had plans. I heard her before I saw her, her heels tapping on the tile floor about 1 second apart each, and I knew she had started to walk towards me. Suddenly, the taps stopped, only to begin again a few seconds later, having increased in tempo but also having a distinctly flatter sound. Months of training and waiting told me that she had stopped walking, and I dared to move my eyes from looking at the ground to slowly start and look up at her.

My wager paid off, for as I started to look up from the bottom, I grew more and more excited. My eyes first darted to her jet black heels, standing about 2 feet apart, one facing towards me and the other perpendicular, tapping away at the floor in a familiar pulse that made me feel as if her feet controlled my heartbeat. As I moved my eyes ever further up, I was delighted to spot Mistress's hand touching the fishnet stocking netting that erected from the top of her left heel, as she slowly moved her hand from the bottom to the top. She had to be working some magic, because invisible strings around my dick suddenly started to be pulled, and it stretched farther and farther as her hand came closer and closer to her hips. 

When it finally reached her hips, my eyes refocused and realized that she had on a short black leather skirt, and the stockings went up to her thighs to connect with a leather garter belt. Almost hypnotically, she moved her hand onto her him, and my eyes followed her movement as if in a trance. I pretended that she had such total control over me, she was able to move my eyeballs just by moving her hands slightly. As she did that, she shifted her pose so that her hips stuck out more to the right while still keeping her legs in the same place. With that simple movement, Mistress turned all my attention to her right side, and my ears grew suddenly extremely sensitive as I realized what I was looking at.

From her right hand extended a black crop, held so that it created an acute angle with the rest of her body. I heard every little sound at that moment. The soft breathing of Mistress, a perfect calm to hide the punishment her mind was cooking up for me. The still-constant tapping of her heels, waiting for me to acknowledge her as my Goddess. The rhythm of my heart beating along in sync with her tapping. While I was observing it all in, Mistress stopped tapping her heels. The second she did, my heart stopped beating, as it had no rhythm to follow. I had fallen so deeply into her gravity that I needed her guidance, her very approval, to continue living. As the silence filled my ears, panic started to rise when my chest would refuse to breathe in air. With just a small change, She had stopped my heart from beating. 

In desperation, I quickly glanced up at her beautiful face, hoping to send pleading stares towards her if she would allow them, but not before noticing that the only other piece of clothing she had on her upper area was a full length corset that hugged her body and outlined its form, only to be topped off by a tightly buttoned, undercut chest that turned her breasts into bountiful mounds of drool-evoking power. When I did reach her face however, I lost the ability to think. My eyes had locked into hers, and her deep black pools sucked all thought I had right into her own. The only thing left in my mind was this message: you are mine. 

As I looked up to her, she looked down on me and my quivering body as if I was a disgusting creature that had to be terminated. Her bright red lips, contrasting against her smooth white skin, grimaced into a scowl and she allowed me to see a bit of her teeth. Then, while keeping the scowl, she moved her eyes away from mine to look away in boredom towards one of the lights that dotted the ceiling. My vision started to darken, and I knew that the process was complete. My soul belonged to her. 

As I started falling into the plains of oblivion, I heard a sigh of almost pity, followed by 5 words each said with equal deliberation and precision: I. Allow. You. To. Serve. With those 5 words, my heart started to beat again, my vision returned, and I was able to return to my knees like a proper slave. As I looked up again and admired her in her full form, legs forming a V, hands to her hips, and her lips slightly open while her eyes looked down on me, I accepted her as my Goddess, and the contract was complete. I was to be hers, and she was to control me, humiliate me, and punish me for all my deeds. 

With her right hand, she started to wave her crop in small circular motions, and again as if by magic, my dick responded. Although it had been deprived of blood from my heart stopping, with each circle the crop completed my dick grew longer and longer. She kept spinning it faster and faster, and when my dick could expand no more, my legs started to move on my own, making me rise before her. At this point, my dick was pointing straight up, and my legs were just helping it rise to beyond its capacity. Again, mistress waved the crop faster and faster, until I was on my tip-e-toes, and go rise no higher. But mistress, being the cruel sadist and controlling Goddess she was, spun the crop faster and faster, and started to walk towards me.

Her hips moved back and forth, her breasts bouncing slightly in her corset, and her stockings outlined her legs as her heels tapped their way towards me. Now she had relaxed her left hand by her side, and her left hand was slightly apart from her side, spinning the crop faster and faster still. Because I could rise no higher, precum started forming on my dick with each step she took, until it looked like the top of a rice cooker ready to blow. Finally, she stopped 6 inches before me, and spread out her legs in her V formation right before me. Her crop still waving, she raises an eyebrow and looks down at my frothing dick, a smile of amusement starting to cover her face. She starts moving her crop in smaller and smaller circles, until it looks like it's almost still, but my dick knows it's not as it keeps gathering precum. 

Then, Mistress opened her eyes really wide and innocently at me, and opened her mouth as if saying "aww" at a lost puppy in a store. Her mouth wide open, she took her crop and licked the end of it slowly, her eyes glancing down to see that my dick was covered in streams of white. As she closed her mouth around her crop, a small but audible sigh of pleasure escaped my throat. Immediately, she took her crop, and whipped my dick straight on top of it. 

The minute the crop touched the head of my dick, a shot of cum erupted straight out, creating a hole in her crop. The sudden release of pressure made me lose my balance and I started tipping backwards, about to fall back-first into the floor, but I was saved; quick as a flash, mistress grabbed the center of my chest harness and held me place, angled towards the ground. 

The innocent look I was honored with earlier was suddenly replaced with an angry and demeaning scowl. Still holding on to me and keeping me at an angle, my Goddess lifted her left leg and placed her left heels on my crotch while keeping the other heel firm on the ground. As she pulled on the harness, she pushed down with her heel, making my dick squirm under her stilettos, causing great pain but still managing to pleasure me in her erotic pose to keep me just as hard as before. 

Then, keeping the pressure on my crotch the same, she pulled me closer with the harness, and leaned her face in so that I could see her bared teeth behind her lips, and her clear, black eyes. Letting her words hiss through her teeth, she said "Now you've gone and disappointed me, slave. First you let yourself experience pleasure without my pleasure, and then you break the very tool I wanted to use to eventually allow you to pleasure yourself..." She took a brief pause, changing her scowl into a wicked smile, showing all of her brilliant white teeth, and continued with, "I'm going to have to punish you now, slave... Are you ready?"

I swallowed the fear that had risen in my through throat and allowed my arousal to rise higher and higher, so that I could mumble "Yes mistress, punish me mistress... I'm ready" And with my last word, She let go of my harness, and allowed me to stand again while keeping a single finger under my chin. With that single finger, she willed my body to make me stand straight, and kept pushing me up until I was on my toes once more. My dick, of course had joined and was fully erect too, somehow pointing upwards once again.

I now stood taller than she did, yet she still had full control of my body with just that single finger. She was looking up at me, yet I knew that at the same time she was still looking down at me. After keeping me in that pose for a few seconds, she took her other hand and grabbed onto my dick at the sides. In just one chug, cum shot out again, only to hit the bottom of my chin. She looked into my eyes, bared her lips a little, and said "Good" while letting her tongue reach out of her teach a little and go back in seductively licking from the inside in a subtle but noticeable way.

She took a hold of my harness, turned around, and started to walk towards her bondage chamber, pulling me along like a collared dog. I could do nothing but watch, mesmerized by her hips shaking, her skirt rising and falling slightly to give me peeks at her beautiful ass, and her straight jet black hair moving like silk across her strapless shoulders. I was her slave. My sole duty in life was to follow her command, and be her puppet. She could control me with her words, her movements, and even her facial expressions. She was a Goddess. My Goddess. And I only followed her as I started to learn the true meaning of total control.